Into Oblivion
by Aurial
Summary: Bryn Harper's world was turned upside down when she was struck by a debilitating condition - What does a man name Barlow have to do with it, and how is he connected to Wolverine?
1. Identified

Author's foreword and disclaimer: Ok, so this story occurs in a somewhat confused place, that being, somewhere just after the conclusion of the second X-men movie - however, some characters that I just love from the comics HAD to be in there, particularly Gambit, and so I've thrown some people in there who may not necessarily have been around at the time when X2 supposedly took place. If you're not into that then you probably will spend your whole time going, ' OMG, I can't believe she's done that, it so didn't happen here or that way!'  
  
I KNOW.  
  
I've taken particular liberties with the Phoenix concept also, given the way they ended X2 I figured this was a nice way to resolve it.  
  
With that said I should also state, as most do, that I have, and am claiming, no ownership of the X-men characters, I'm merely pushing them about a little for my own amusement.   
  
Bryn Harper aka Oblivion, Dylan Barlow and the Templar Administration are however all figments of my very own imagination.  
  
Aurial  
  
Themes: Identity, love, trust, betrayal, frustration, loyalty, hatred, altruism.  
  
Note: Some medium level violence. Adult content.  
  
IDENTIFIED  
  
Bryn gently rubbed her temples as she sat in the bumper-to-bumper peak hour morning traffic - It had been yet another restless night. The world around her was a buzz of activity that never ceased, not even in sleep, and it was beginning to take its toll on her both physically and mentally.  
  
" Move!" Bryn growled suddenly in frustration, directing her irritation at the car in front of her.  
  
To her amazement, and horror in fact, the red Gli Lancer coupe sitting directly before her silver Pulsar LX shuddered, and then moved horizontally off the road and onto the median strip. The driver of the car looked about frantically for the cause of the abrupt relocation but found no great force, only the space in the traffic left by his vehicle.  
  
Bryn blinked and swallowed, also looking around to see if anyone was peering at her - No one had heard her outburst of course, with her windows closed, only she was privy to her command that had indeed been carried out.   
  
Ever since puberty hit, Bryn had witnessed similar strange events occurring around her, but had tried her best to ignore and suppress whatever it was that gave her the ability to exercise her will.  
  
By the time the Lancer driver had recovered and gotten back on the road, Bryn's irritation had subsided into a sullen brooding that usually followed an incident, as she called it. When she reached work, all she really wanted to do was hide under her desk and pretend as if the world did not exist.  
  
Her mind spun in endless circles, seeing every tiny atom for everything that it was and could be - The barrage of information and emotion was never ending, but all hidden away behind a cold and indifferent mask that she held whenever in public. There were few she called friends because of this, but to those she cared about, she was absolutely loyal.  
  
People stepped quickly out of her way when she walked down the halls of the school, opened doors that barred her path and greeted her with respect, but Bryn could never tell if this was because they truly felt it, or because her countenance commanded it.  
  
Today was little different, except for an additional feeling, an itch in the back of her mind that was slowly growing in intensity, a feeling of imminence. She carried this with her to class, warning her students that unacceptable behaviour would be met with extreme measures, but not one single student defied her, sitting in silence as she spoke and working furiously at her request.  
  
Then all hell broke loose.  
  
Gunfire, or, at least what sounded like gunfire, automatic, rattling on and off and very close, so close that most of the students and Bryn herself actually ducked.  
  
" Stay here," Bryn instructed as she ducked out of C4 and back into the English and LOTE staff room. In the courtyard, beyond the glass windows stood several men in black trench coats, holding what did in fact look like automatic weapons.  
  
Bryn forced the lump in her throat down as she watched the men turn to where one of the assistant principals stood with a group of prospective parents, cowering against the far wall. Horrified, her pupils dilated, her brain throbbing inside her head as if threatening to burst from her ears. White-knuckle fists formed at her sides - Fear, fear and indecision. Then her feet moved, and she was standing outside the staff room, glaring over at the armed assailants even as they raised their weapons to the unarmed group. Mahogany eyes narrowed as her lips moved, speaking out a silent command, as if the world was listening to only her and would obey.  
  
" To me," she voiced inside her head, a loud, echoing voice inside her skull, filled with confidence, strong and undeniable.  
  
Hands lifted and outstretched, fingers splayed.  
  
Shouts of alarm rang out, and were cut short by a click and slap as those automatic weapons were wrenched free of the hands of the gunmen, and were swiftly delivered to Bryn's hold.  
  
Her lips quivered as all eyes turned to her, teeth grit, her body pumping adrenalin furiously. It took a moment for the gunmen to react.  
  
One reached for the holster at his waist, the other ducked behind the bushed of a raised garden bed while his partner took aim. Fluidly Bryn swung her arm as she began forward with a powerful stride, and as if she had struck the man physically he was thrown backward, so hard in fact that he did not rise from where he had fallen against the cold concrete.  
  
" Don't moof," a thickly German voice commanded, and Bryn felt something cold and hard press against the back of her skull.  
  
Bryn froze, petrified and wide-eyed, even as the assistant principal and his group watched on with similar expressions.  
  
This time it was barely even a thought in Bryn's mind that cause the gun to cripple, bent in half as if it was made of rubber. The man blinked in utter shock, but did not hesitate to draw back the ruined weapon with a view to clubbing Bryn with it.  
  
" Ah!" Bryn uttered, and the length of bent metal untwisted in his hold and then snaked around his wrists, binding them together.  
  
Shaking as her fingers curled into her palms and out again, Bryn turned deliberately, peering at the obviously bewildered gunman with eyes like balefire.  
  
" Get down," she instructed, and instantly the man lowered himself to the ground, even though she carried no weapon of her own. " And stay down."  
  
She then looked once more at the other gunman who still lay unconscious, and then to the assistant principal.  
  
" Call the police," Bryn told him, and without a single breath's hesitation, he scuttled off to do just that.  
  
When the police arrived the story they were given by the many witnesses varied from a bizarre gun battle with the ' phantom like' teacher, to her treating the gunmen like naughty students - All agreed however, that Bryn had put herself in the line of fire, and managed to avoid both injury, and casualty.  
  
As it turned out, the gunmen were actually after one of the prospective students' parents, who had some weird connection with the Lebanese mafia. Bryn didn't really care, all she wanted was for the police to be done with her so that she could go home. Unfortunately, some fool had called the press, and before Bryn could protest there were cameras going off in her face.  
  
Bryn was glad to get indoors, doors that she could lock and windows across which she could draw curtains. Even three days later people were still following her around and asking her about her mutant powers, suspicious even though she had averted harm not caused it. She was lucky, however, that her family was a loving one, and offered her support for this new found revelation - There was no history of mutation in her family however, which made Bryn wonder why exactly she had in fact become one.  
  
She was exhausted, feeling completely run down, surprised that she had not yet opted to take a day off.  
  
After a long day at work, mostly discussing security measures, previously un-addressed, she was glad to sink down on the couch with a cup of tea. The peace however, was not going to last very long at all.  
  
As if the wind gods had just collectively expelled a breath directly at her house, Bryn heard every inch of her home shudder and then fall still. With a small frown she pulled back the curtain and revealed her back yard and the sky beyond, that was blue and nearly cloudless.  
  
She nearly dropped her cup of tea when the doorbell rang, and with a growl of both irritation and pain, as her aching body protested her movement from the couch, she headed to the door, and swung it open.  
  
There, beyond the wire door, stood a man in perhaps his late thirties, early forties, flanked by a short young brunette woman and a slightly taller man with blond hair. They could have been one of many contingents of reporters that she had encountered over the past days, and she was certainly not in the mood to deal with them.  
  
" If you're here for an interview," she croaked, her voice nearly gone. " You can forget it."  
  
" Are you Bryn Harper?" the older gentleman questioned mildly, peering at her intently.  
  
" Look," Bryn coughed, holding herself up by the doorframe. " I am not in the mood for this ok?"  
  
" Your gift...." the man began, spreading his hands.  
  
" My gift?" Bryn grunted. " Is none of anyone's business."  
  
With that, Bryn flicked her finger, and the heavy door closed loudly.  
  
" Kick it down," the man commanded.  
  
" Sir," the brunette said sharply, cold urgency in her voice. " She isn't breathing."  
  
The man frowned.  
  
" Get in there lieutenant," the man ordered, and needed to say little more for the young man belted the door with his balled fist and it smashed inward as if it had been made of no more than cardboard. Beyond, down the hall a little, he could see Bryn's feet, and her unconscious form was soon surrounded by not only the man and his male and female companion, but also half a dozen armed men in black SWAT suits.  
  
" Brendan," the man barked into a communicator on his wrist. " Get out here now."  
  
Bryn had gotten as far as the bedroom door before she felt as if she had been hit by something heavy. It had felt like a brick wall crushing down on her chest, forcing the air from them and dropping her unconscious to the floor.  
  
CPR was initiated by the young woman while the young man checked for a pulse.  
  
" Nothing Sir," he declared.  
  
Another plain clothed man appeared, pushing the uniforms aside.  
  
" Still nothing Sir," the young man replied, looking up to the one named Brendan.  
  
" Restart her heart," the man, who appeared to be in charge, instructed.   
  
" Stand back," Brendan said, kneeling down beside her. " Clear."  
  
A spark ignited from the end of Brendan's finger, and Bryn's body jolted violently when he touched it to the centre of her chest - she lay still but for the slight motion of her chest rising.  
  
" Her heart is beating," the young woman sensed.  
  
" Get her onto the helicopter," the leader told them, and the young man lifted her effortlessly from the floor, following his commander back toward the door. There were no questions about removing this woman from her home and loading her onto the immense black, unmarked helicopter, they simply followed, and when all were aboard, lifted the modified aircraft from where they had parked it in the street, into the sky and out of general viewing.  
  
Bryn murmured weakly as she was attached a heart monitor to her, and peeled back her lids like they weighed a tonne.  
  
" Wha?" she managed.  
  
" Relax," the man told her. " You went into cardiac arrest."  
  
That was all he had time to tell her before she slipped back into unconsciousness. 


	2. Cages

CAGES  
  
The light filtered through Bryn's eyelids and burned throughout her entire skull. Her body felt heavy, like it was weighted with lead or bound to the ground by gravity a hundred times more potent. Her breath was dragged in and pushed outward laboriously, and only then did she realise that the pressure over her face was an oxygen mask.  
  
Pupils dilated as the whiteness of the room scorched her retinas - a hospital room, but she could not remember how she had gotten there or where she had been before.  
  
" How do you feel?" a voice inquired from a long way away, though its owner stood at the bedside with a clipboard in his hand.  
  
" Shit," Bryn rasped, rolling her eyes, trying to make them focus. " Where am I?"  
  
" Just rest," she was told, and there didn't seem to be a great deal of sympathy in that voice.  
  
" I would rest, much easier," she forced out. " If I knew where I was."  
  
" Increase the dose," the voice said.  
  
" Of what?" Bryn scowled, fear rising up inside her, irrational as it might have been, she did not like the trapped feeling that permeated her body, or not being given a straight answer to so simple a question - but seconds later, darkness consumed her once more.  
  
When next Bryn woke she felt normal - there was no pain, and she felt well rested. She was no longer where she had been, though there was an IV drip in her arm that appeared to contain a saline solution. Trying to keep her heart form racing, Bryn sat up and peered around her. Bare white walls, one door with no handle on the inside and what appeared to be a mirror on the opposite side. It looked like a padded cell without the padding, the only piece of furniture in the room, the bed on which she sat and the IV stand.  
  
It was like a scene from a movie thriller, so bright and surreal Bryn's brain was having a good deal of trouble deciding how best to deal with it - then again, the last five years, with the full emergence of mutants and all the publicity had made life itself more like a sci-fi movie. It was becoming difficult to tell what was real and what wasn't.  
  
Cautiously, almost like she expected the floor to be electrocuted, she placed her bare feet on the cold linoleum and transferred her weight to them. Exhaling shakily Bryn swallowed down the lump in her throat and struggled to remember exactly what her last recollection was.  
  
This seemed like a strange sort of hospital if that had been in fact what she had previously woken to, but where were her family? Where were the doctors and the nurses? The mirror was odd, and it didn't take a genius to get the notion that it was two way. She moved toward it wheeling the IV stand beside her, feeling almost like she was in a dream, somehow detached from the reality of the situation, but when she reached it, the sound of the door opening behind her made her turn on her heal.  
  
Two men and a woman holding a clipboard entered and the door closed behind them.  
  
" Good afternoon," the first man said, and his voice sounded vaguely familiar. The second man was much younger and was not wearing a lab coat like the others. His dark blond hair was spiked up at the front, his posture arrogant and his eyes piercingly intent upon where she stood in a white linen hospital gown that tied at the back. Of all of them, he unsettled her the most.  
  
" Where am I?" she rushed suddenly. " Who are you people?"  
  
The woman scribbled something down on her notepad, and the man in the lab coat pursed his lips a moment before answering.  
  
" A medical facility in Trenton New Jersey," he said.  
  
" What?" Bryn blinked. How the hell had she gotten to the US?  
  
" Your medical condition was one that could not be properly treated in Australia," the man continued calmly, despite Bryn's obviously rising confusion.  
  
" What medical condition, I don't have, a medical condition?" she scowled, taking a step back, incidentally into the wall, as the group of three stepped forward.  
  
" Your body was in an extreme state of distress when we found you," he told her plainly. " You were lucky that we found you when we did."  
  
" Who the hell is we??" Bryn insisted - she felt like a hunted animal cornered with nowhere to go, something for which she did not care at all.  
  
" My name is Daniel Laudheim," he answered. " Doctor, this is Dylan Barlow and Jasmine Stoker."  
  
" But who?" Bryn pressed, gritting her teeth.  
  
Barlow set his jaw, and was the one to answer.  
  
" Templar Administration," he dropped flatly, like she should know what that was and be respectful, but Laudheim clarified this answer in a much more gentle tone.  
  
" We've done a lot of research into mutation and subsequently this is the best place to be in your condition."  
  
He shifted his feet but did not move any closer.  
  
" I understand that you must be apprehensive, you've suffered a great trauma and must be disorientated, even afraid, you don't know who we are, but I assure you, we want to help."  
  
Bryn took all this in, but because she didn't remember what actually occurred, she couldn't be sure of what she was told.  
  
" I'd like to leave," she said - she felt fine.  
  
" Highly unadvisable until we discover exactly what the cause of your cellular break down, was and how it can be prevented," Laudheim said firmly.  
  
" Just the same," Bryn responded. " I'd be more comfortable at home."  
  
Stoker looked up from her click board. A smirk spread across Barlow's face. Laudheim shook his head.  
  
" I'm afraid that isn't going to be possible," he told her in a sad, but far too cold tone for Bryn's liking, and from then on it felt more and more like she was in some kind of prison.  
  
" You, can't keep me here," she forced out, even though her voice shook.  
  
" Actually we can," Barlow said bluntly, sweeping one hand beneath his jacket to his hip, effectively revealing the fact that he was carrying a weapon.  
  
Bryn swallowed. This was a nightmare.  
  
" Why are you really doing this?" she coughed, fear welling in her eyes.  
  
Laudheim and Stoker turned to the door, but Barlow moved toward her.  
  
" Because we own you," he answered in a harsh whisper.  
  
The door opened and Laudheim and Stocker exited - Bryn looked passed Barlow through the open space - she wasn't going to stay there.  
  
She didn't say anything, just lifted her hands and Barlow flew back and slammed into the opposite wall. The needle stung as Bryn ripped it from her arm, but that was the least of her concerns. Everything moved in a flash, and she could do no more than live in each moment.  
  
The door had begun to close the moment Barlow hit the wall, but Bryn had a grip on it from the other side of the room and dashed through and past Laudheim and Stoker.  
  
" Stop her!" Laudheim shouted, and already there were men in black uniforms traveling toward her from both sides of the corridor she had exited into.  
  
Barlow had picked himself up from the floor of the cell, but was trapped when Bryn brought the door closed, and the guards rushing at her were to have no better luck - invisible hands reached out and slapped them so hard that they were sent reeling and skidding back down the corridors from which they had come and did not move after that.  
  
Blind panic moved her feet quickly, adrenalin surging through her veins to her muscles even as yet more guards picked up the trail.  
  
" No windows," she cried as she ran in and out of various rooms.  
  
" Tranquilizer only!" she heard Laudheim command, and this spurred her into a stairwell that only lead up.  
  
Shouting voices followed her at every turn until she burst from the concrete spiral and into a naturally lit hall from which she could see trees and cars parked.  
  
There was no time to pause, only to slam the door behind her and continue running.  
  
People blinked as she passed by, people in suits and ties, at desks and computers, normal people at their place of work with this woman pelting like crazy for an exit, any exit, wearing no more than a hospital gown.  
  
The foyer was full.  
  
Like an army of black these men, like soldiers stood, blocking the glass doors behind then, the way out. Her bare feet screeched on the linoleum as she skidded to a halt and then men lifted their weapons and took aim.  
  
" Don't get in my way," she cried, raising her hands once more.  
  
Shots were fired.  
  
It was too late.  
  
It was as if a bomb had exploded.  
  
Bodies clad in black were propelled backward as if hit by a truck, through the glass wall and doors, arms and legs and weapons flailing helplessly. Screams and shouts and the roar and shriek of exploding glass and concrete rumbled between Bryn's ears, but she did not take time to appreciate what she had just done, and began to pick her way across the debris strewn floor, out of the building, over moaning bodies and across the garden.  
  
But it was not over.  
  
The pursuit continued, and it was Barlow's voice she hear bellowing out commands. Something cracked against a tree beside her, but Bryn did not pause to see what it was, throwing herself forward with renewed energy even though her feet burned and her head was beginning to thump.  
  
Then there was a new throb, overhead, and as Bryn broke from the trees to what looked like traffic in the distance, she caught sight of a helicopter.  
  
" Stop where you are!" a voice instructed through the loud speaker.  
  
Bryn stumbled as she climbed up and embankment onto the side of what was the widest highway she had ever seen.  
  
" Stop!" she yelled, waving her arms at passing cars, who did not, incidentally, stop at her distress. Increasingly aware of the men closing the distance behind her, Bryn took her chances and dashed onto the busy expressway.   
  
She dodged and ran, until she made it to the median strip, but by that time Barlow and his men were up the embankment and preparing to cross themselves, and several four wheel drives turned onto the road from a small break in the wall and drove toward her regardless of the other cars, that swerved to avoid collision.  
  
Bryn was on the verge of mental break down - fear, disbelief, a sense of disjointed reality, shock, took over her body, survival, took over her body.  
  
There were soldiers to her right, cars coming at her and a helicopter now hovering overhead. Bryn did what she could.  
  
One hand stretched out toward the oncoming cars, the other upward at the helicopter. The cars stopped, all of them in sight, not because time had stopped, but because they now hung a good six feet from the ground, their wheels aimlessly spinning.  
  
Bryn held them there as her other hand directed her consciousness at the helicopter and brought it down toward Barlow and his group of armed men.  
  
Naturally they scattered as the helicopter looked about the crash into the ground, but Bryn pushed it into the trees, avoiding a heavy impact.  
  
Her body screamed, people were yelling, screaming crying, trying to figure out how and why they were suspended in mid air. Panting erratically Bryn dropped one car from the lot, holding it still until she could open the back door and climb in.  
  
" Drive," Bryn hissed, even as the male driver blinked at her in his own state of shock. " GO!" Bryn shouted, and the car shuddered from the force of it.  
  
The car moved.  
  
The driver did as he was instructed to do, and at top speed and could do so because, all of the cars still hung in the air above them. Bryn slumped her head back against the rest, her eyes wide but not seeing anything but the line of cars, concentrating so hard to keep them there until she could no longer.  
  
Seven and three quarter minutes she'd held them, until the traffic resumed in a panic.  
  
" Pull over," Bryn breathed.  
  
" This is an expressway, we can't just stop!" the driver exclaimed, glancing back to see Bryn roll her eyes. " A'ight, a'ight, we'll stop here," he amended, and pulled through the traffic to the side of the road, where Bryn dragged herself out, and disappeared over the concrete rail and down the embankment.  
  
" Hmm," Xavier mused darkly as he wheeled down the underground corridor away from Cerebro toward what constituted a Ready Room, in which Storm, Wolverine, Cyclops, Rogue, Iceman, Gambit and Nightcrawler were waiting.  
  
" What's this all about Chuck?" Logan asked, chewing on the end of his unlit cigar.  
  
Xavier picked up a remote control from the bench and pressed the play button and a recording of the afternoon news came on.  
  
" Bizarre scenes today for highway motorists in New Jersey today, who spent several minutes suspended in mid air on the city expressway," the reporter declared. " Witnesses told CNN reporters that without warning their cars lifted from the ground and remained six feet in the air for at least five minutes before lowering back onto the road. This of course caused much confusion, but no actual injuries have been recorded."  
  
" The news was plastered with this earlier," Xavier explained. " Some with actual footage."  
  
He pressed fast forward and then play at the right spot, to reveal pictures of the cars dangling precariously.  
  
" So someone got a little irritated with the traffic and decided to make life a little easier," Logan quipped, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
" That's eight lanes of traffic," Xavier expounded. " Held against gravity for at least five minutes."  
  
" How much of the motorway was affected?" Storm inquired, peering at the Professor much more intently than Logan.  
  
" Two and a half miles," Xavier replied, and there was even a little awe in his voice.  
  
" Two and a half miles??" Cyclops exclaimed.  
  
" That," Storm began, working out the numbers in her head. " At least five thousand cars!"  
  
" At least," Xavier nodded.  
  
Logan had straightened.  
  
" Magneto?" he inquired.  
  
" I doubt even Magneto could hold all of those cars for that long," Xavier admitted.   
  
" More powerful than Magneto?" Rogue frowned.  
  
" I traced both ends of the occurrence using Cerebro and pinpointed the origins to a young woman," Xavier continued.  
  
" We know where de petite is now?" Gambit asked.  
  
" Yes," Xavier nodded. " But her presence is very weak and getting weaker I'm afraid. I want you to find her, and bring her back here. I sensed that she was very frightened and in a great deal of pain."  
  
" Right," Cyclops nodded, and everyone began to file out.   
  
Bryn had managed to stumble from the side of the roadway and traveled close to a kilometer before she could walk no more. She collapsed in some trees, her breath labored but her mind clearer than it had been since she had woken. It was sharp and awake, even though her body had begun to shake - never had she felt such a surge of power, her will driving the incredible stream of telekinetic energy. She understood it, deep inside her, an understanding that could not be put into words.  
  
What she didn't understand was where she was and why she was being chased with such ferocity.  
  
She couldn't run anymore, could barely breathe, could barely move. Too tired for even tears, Bryn just leaned back and closed her eyes drifting into the recesses of thought, trying to block out the pain that was building inside her.  
  
Then there was a voice inside her head, one that was not her own.  
  
" Don't be afraid," he told her, a voice touched with and English accent and there was something in that tone that was in fact comforting.  
  
" It hurts," she said silently, her own voice floating through the haze of semi-consciousness.  
  
" I know," the voice soothed, and somehow, Bryn felt the pain subsiding into a drowsy numbness. " But you must hold on, help is coming."  
  
" Why is this happening?" she asked, the sound of her ethereal voice sluggish.  
  
" I don't know," came the reply. " But I promise I will endeavor to find out."  
  
Then there was nothing but a black, dreamless sleep over which she had no control.  
  
" These are the co-ordinates," Wolverine declared, and Storm lowered the jet into a small clearing. From the air, the motorway had been visible, though the traffic was moving as it should as the night began to creep over the light of day.  
  
" Fan out," Cyclops instructed when they had all disembarked, and they did just that.  
  
The twilight was filled with the sound of suburban birds and the dull roar of traffic in the distance.  
  
Wolverine scanned the trees as he approached them, tuning out all those extraneous noises and focusing for other, more subtle sounds of life. Sharp eyes penetrating the dimness finally spotted a white mass that seemed almost to glow.  
  
" Here!" he shouted, his voice carrying easily to the other X-men. " Hey?" he inquired, kneeling down beside the figure that appeared to be motionless.  
  
There was no response, but as he gently turned the form over onto his other arm, he could see beneath the thin material of the linen gown that her chest was moving.  
  
" Come on," he whispered, checking for a pulse and finding it slow and weak.  
  
The other X-men appeared through the trees as Wolverine lifted Bryn into his arms.  
  
" We have ta get her back ta the mansion," he declared, not waiting for the others but heading straight back to the jet.   
  
" We've lost the pulse!" Storm said urgently as they rushed Bryn from the jet into the medical bay at the mansion and Xavier and Doctor Hank McCoy, otherwise known as Beast moved in.  
  
The X-men stood back, but Wolverine still hovered nearby as they went to work.  
  
Syringes passed hands, the defibrillator, IV, CPR, until eventually Xavier moved away.  
  
" Well?" Logan inquired with a frown.  
  
" She is stable for the moment," Xavier explained. " But I don't know for how long."  
  
" What's wrong with her?" Logan asked.  
  
" I honestly don't know," Xavier admitted. " We'll do some more tests and hopefully we'll know more then."  
  
Comprehensive tests were completed within hours, and another meeting was called, chaired by Hank.  
  
" There was nothing to be told from regular blood works," he explained, turning on the light board on the wall, displaying full body x-rays. " She suffers from no known diseases, no broken bones, but there is evidence of steady cellular break down which looks to have began at approximately the age of nineteen, fascinating!"  
  
" What is causing this break down?" Storm asked.  
  
Beast nodded, and put up another set of slides that indicated three DNA maps.  
  
" This here is the DNA map of a regular human," he lectured, pointing to one section. " This is the sequence responsible for mutation." He pointed to the subtle, but clear difference between the human slide and that of a mutant.  
  
" Our young friend's map is different again," he finished, indicating, and highlighting, enlarging her DNA sequence.  
  
" A new type of mutant?" Cyclops offered.  
  
" Actually Scott," Xavier began. " New mutant may not be so far from the truth."  
  
Xavier handed Beast yet another slide, and it was placed beside Bryn's.  
  
" There are significant similarities between this sequence belonging to Senator Kelly."  
  
" Could she have been created by Magneto as well?" Logan questioned, standing to take a closer look, even though he didn't really understand what he was looking at.  
  
" They're similar, but not the same," Xavier replied. " It looks as if the mutation look place over a much longer period of time, indicated by this string of anomalies on either side of this sequence."  
  
" What does that mean?" Logan pressed.  
  
" I believe Logan, it means that she was created, and it is more than likely killing her, just as it did Senator Kelly," Beast said sadly.  
  
" Is there nothing we can do?" Storm asked.  
  
" We are working on some possibilities," Xavier told her. " But currently we possess nothing that may unmake a mutant."  
  
When everyone left the Ready Room, Xavier asked Logan to remain behind.  
  
" What's up?" he asked, shifting from foot to foot as he was want to do.  
  
" We'd like to try an experiment, if that's all right with you Logan," Beast said with what was for him a smile.  
  
" What kinda experiment?" Logan inquired cautiously..  
  
" Well," Xavier began. " It may be possible to isolate viable white blood cells from you that should carry a least some of your remarkable ability to heal. If the woman could be transfused, it may buy her some time."  
  
Logan thought for only a short moment.  
  
" Do it," he nodded, and Beast set up the necessary equipment.  
  
Logan sat down beside the gurney upon which Bryn lay. Her complexion was pale, her eyelids fluttering lightly as if she was being chased by something in her dreams. She was otherwise striking, despite her weakened and disheveled state, and Logan found himself fascinated by her instantly.  
  
" Do we know who she is?" he asked, looking to the other side where Xavier was moving toward Bryn's head.  
  
" Not yet," he answered, then placed his hands one either side of her head. " But we'll know soon enough. Now where have you come from?" he whispered, and closed his eyes, connecting with her mind.  
  
Flashes broke through, vivid and sharp, as if Xavier had stepped into Bryn's memories. Her entire childhood blinked by, birthdays, family, Christmases, school, happiness and sadness, sickness and health, until he reached that day at the school that she was unarmed the attackers in the yard. This Xavier paused for, and watched in full from her perspective, before moving on to the subsequent media attention, the papers and the television reports.  
  
Then there was a knock at the door.  
  
" If you're here for an interview," Bryn croaked, Xavier standing beside her though she didn't seem to notice. " You can forget it."  
  
" Are you Bryn Harper?" the older gentleman questioned mildly, and Xavier listened and watched intently.  
  
" Look," Bryn coughed, holding herself up by the doorframe, a fact that did not escape the Professor's notice. " I am not in the mood for this ok?"  
  
" Your gift...." the man began, but Bryn broke his sentence before he could properly begin it.  
  
" My gift?" Bryn grunted. " Is none of anyone's business."  
  
Xavier watched as Bryn flicked her finger and the door closed. He followed, as she turned from the door down the hall, her feet dragging, her hand running along the wall for support, until she collapsed in a heap and did not move.  
  
Bryn's consciousness wavered, and Xavier again sensed the deep pain that soaked her body.  
  
Her eyes opened, but the picture was blurry and faded out quickly until another picture focused into view. Xavier found himself standing in a white room, door on one side, mirror in the other, and Bryn pulling herself up from a bed in the centre, a saline drip attached to her arm. It was clear by her expression, as well as the vibes that the he could feel, that Bryn was both afraid and confused, and that only increased when the door opened and three figures entered.  
  
One of them, Xavier already knew.  
  
Pleasantries were short, as Xavier walked a slow and unnoticed circle around Bryn's handlers, then watched as Bryn dashed from the room and made good her escape, leaving a path of glassy destruction in the foyer.  
  
It was obvious to Xavier that the Templar Administration was keen to keep Bryn in their possession, by the zeal of their pursuit, throwing everything except tanks at her in an attempt to recapture their escapee, this one foreign girl in a hospital gown, alone and terrified dodging traffic on a busy motorway.  
  
Then, chaos to order.  
  
Xavier stood almost in awe as Bryn commanded the physical elements around her like a musical conductor, bringing down the helicopter without crashing it and lifting the cars from the ground. He could feel the energy almost static in the air, the new clarity in Bryn's mind, but also the deep, growling destruction that was tearing her body apart at a cellular level.  
  
He rode with her in the car until she exited, and passed out beneath the trees.  
  
Professor Xavier opened his eyes, blinking a few times as the images and Bryn's emotions and physical feelings dissipated.  
  
" Her name is Bryn Harper," he announced with an uncharacteristically heavy sigh as Beast slid the IV needle under Logan's skin and began the transfusion process. " She's from Australia."  
  
" Then what's she doin here?" Logan inquired with a frown, glancing from the blood traveling through the tube and into the diffuser, to Bryn's peaceful expression, then back to Xavier.  
  
" By the look of it she didn't have a great deal of choice in the matter," Xavier explained. " It appears that she was taken by operatives of the Templar Administration after she collapsed in her home six days ago."  
  
" Templar?" Beast frowned, connecting the other end of the medical machinery to Bryn's IV, then flicking numerous switches, setting the machinery to work.  
  
" Logan," Xavier said seriously, his own brow creased. " Does the name Dylan Barlow mean anything to you?"  
  
Immediately Logan reacted, deep inside.  
  
Since Stryker's death and the relative resolution at the Alkali Lake research base, some other memories had begun to seep through. Most of it was indistinguishable, but names, whispers, and the name Barlow definitely rang a bell.  
  
" Yeah," he nodded. " He worked for Stryker once."  
  
Apart from that, there was little Logan could say about the man, the memories were simply buried too far for him to reach or make sense of.  
  
" With a mutant ability very much akin to yours I believe," Xavier added. " I seems that Mr. Barlow and scientists from a global consortium known as the Templar Administration found it extremely important to abduct Miss Harper from her home and keep her by any means necessary."  
  
" Why?" Logan asked, peering once again at Bryn's face, as the separated white blood cells were fed into her debilitated body. " I mean, of course she's powerful, but there has ta be more to it than that right?"  
  
" I'd be very surprised if there wasn't," Xavier agreed. " Unfortunately she doesn't seem to know what."  
  
" How will we know if this is working?" Logan exhaled, flexing his fist a little.  
  
" White blood cells are generally accepted across all blood types," Beast explained. " Even from mutants to humans and vice versa. Once into the blood stream they receive instructions from the brain to repair damaged cells and begin their work. In the case of your most extraordinary cells Logan, we should expect to see dramatic improvement, well, any time from now."  
  
Logan leaned forward a little against the edge of the bed and gently picked up Bryn's pale and limp hand.  
  
" And if not?" Logan inquired, glancing up briefly.  
  
" Then I doubt very much that she will wake."  
  
Logan suddenly felt more akin to this woman, connected to her somehow through the obscure link that was this obviously unscrupulous man Dylan Barlow. Details of his past that had emerged at the Alkali Lake research facility had not been happy ones, notions that he had brought his condition upon himself, that he had allowed himself to be experimented on, that he had been working with Stryker and before that had been a real monster of a man. The blanks haunted him less now, the void still filled with visions of Jean Grey's last moments and the pain that had all but wrenched his chest open and spewed forth his vulnerable heart. This young woman laying there dying, appeared to be a victim of something he may very well have helped put into motion, or, might lead to further knowledge of his past. Either way, he held her hand and hoped with all his heart that this exchange of blood could bring her back to life.  
  
A finger twitched.  
  
" Her BP is improving," Beast reported, looking at one of several monitors to which Bryn was connected.  
  
" Her hand just moved," Logan declared, venturing a small smile.  
  
" Pulse is strengthening," Beast went on. " And the EEG is nearly normal."  
  
" It's working?"  
  
" Yes," Xavier smiled, watching as Bryn's fingers curled reflexively around Logan's.  
  
" Hmm," came a labored murmur from the gurney, and all three men leaned over Bryn as her lids fluttered open and her eyes lashed about in panic.  
  
" Do not be afraid," Xavier told her gently, and this appeared to have an instantly calming effect.  
  
" We had to intubate you," he explained. " But we can remove it now that you're breathing has improved."  
  
Bryn blinked, her mind fighting to come to grips with what she saw - bald man in a wheel chair with the voice from her dream, a massive creature with blue fur in a lab coat and a man holding her hand with side burns like none other she had ever seen.  
  
She coughed as the tube slid out of her throat, dry and raspy she swallowed, like sandpaper down her esophagus.  
  
" Water," she croaked, and a straw was brought to her lips, from which she sucked slowly before relaxing her body once more.  
  
The pain was subsiding quickly, replaced by a strange, tingling sensation all throughout her body that filled her with strength and physical reassurance, though she did not know how exactly.  
  
" You," she whispered, rolling her eyes in Xavier's direction. " I heard, who are you? Where am I?"  
  
" My name is Professor Xavier," Xavier said softly. " And you are safe, safe from the Templar Administration. No one will hurt you here."  
  
Her eyes looked to Beast, but rest on Logan when she noticed the tube in his arm.  
  
" What's this?" she asked, her mind filling with yet more questions, but surprisingly less fear than when she had woken in the white room in Trenton.  
  
" We're using Logan's white blood cells to repair some of the damage to your body," Beast told her.  
  
" Logan?" she rasped, rolling her head to one side and blinking up at Logan, who smiled and gave her hand a slight squeeze.  
  
" Hey," he whispered in a reassuring fashion.  
  
Bryn closed her eyes, that strange tingling sensation rippling shivers through her entire body.  
  
" Rest now," Xavier instructed. " We will talk more later."  
  
Bryn opened her eyes for a few more seconds to look up at this man, Logan, whose blood still pumped into her body.  
  
" Thank you," she exhaled, and then let her body relax into sleep. 


	3. Allies

ALLIES  
  
Logan watched over Bryn even after the blood transfusion was complete, and the longer he watched the more certain he became that he had to protect her from the horrors that Barlow would most certainly put her through should he capture her again.  
  
Meanwhile, the other X-men met in the Ready Room to discuss the ramifications of their discovery.  
  
" If Barlow and the Templar Administration have managed to cause mutation in human DNA, as it would appear they have," Xavier said seriously. " Then it would seem they have made significant progress on Magneto's machine."  
  
" But she's still dying," Storm put in.  
  
" Yes, her body is not naturally capable of dealing with the stress of such power," Xavier explained. " And it is breaking down her cells, though at a significantly slower rate than we saw in Senator Kelley."  
  
" If Barlow was an associate of Stryker's, then why would be creating mutants?" Cyclops asked.  
  
" That is the question indeed," Beast mused. " My suggestion would be that he was intending to use her, her powers to his own advantage, not possessing them himself."  
  
" But how'd 'e control them?" Rogue scowled.  
  
" With the one thing they cannot get from anyone else," Xavier answered. " And for Bryn, that may just be the means to prevent her body from disintegrating."  
  
" But is dat possible?" Gambit pressed. " If you an Doctor McCoy can't t'ink o' a way, den how would dese Templar thugs?"  
  
" I don't know," Xavier admitted. " And there is only one way to truly find out."  
  
" When do we leave?" Logan called resolutely striding into the Ready Room like he was ready to charge into Templar Administration headquarters that very second.  
  
" Wait a minute," Cyclops halted. " Walking into any Templar Administration building is going to be no picnic, and we can't be sure that they do have a cure. I don't like the idea of this girl dying any more than you, but..."  
  
" But??" Logan bristled, stepping up to Cyclops, but Storm moved between them.  
  
" Vat if zere are more?" Nightcrawler suggested tentatively, not yet quite sure if he was a part of the group or not.  
  
" An if dey 'av anywhere near de power dat Bryn does, an' can be manipulated..." Gambit prompted, not needing to finish his sentence.  
  
" It is a possibility," Xavier declared. " And I don't think we can afford to sit idle while that chance remains."  
  
Cyclops' lips pressed into a thin line and though Logan could not see his eyes for the mirrored sunglasses he always wore, he knew that daggers were being stared in his direction.  
  
Cyclops then pushed past and exited the Ready Room without another word.  
  
Everyone looked to Logan, though they didn't really blame him. The animosity Scott had toward Logan was a product of grief, even nine months after the death of Jean Grey. He blamed Logan for coming between he and his wife, even though Jean had made a conscious choice to be with Scott when Logan had offered her an alternative.  
  
" Don't look at me like that," he shrugged with defensive detachment.  
  
" This degeneration," Storm said, clearing her throat and the air. " Can you say how long her body will resist it?"  
  
" It appears that the damage is be increased when she uses her telekinetic abilities, which is why we found her in such a state," Xavier replied, his face grave and tone solemn. " But assuming she doesn't use them and considering the current rate of degeneration, a year perhaps."  
  
Bryn blinked from the doorway, her fingers in a white grip on the jamb, though her strength had since returned. She knew the pain that came after she used her power, she knew that her health had been slowly deteriorating, but she had never thought things were so, so, terminal.  
  
No one saw her turn back into the corridor, but the click of the closing door gave her away.  
  
" You should be restin," Logan said, and Bryn stopped her retreat, but did not look back at where he now stood just outside the Ready Room door.  
  
" Doesn't seem that there's much point now, does there?" she swallowed, her eyes beginning to burn the moment she opened her mouth.  
  
" You're writing yourself off then?" he inquired, frowning - he was amazed at how easily he had come to feel so protective of this young woman. It was conscious in his mind that he had changed much since meeting Professor Xavier, he cared for others, it hurt to see them hurt; and this woman's situation touched him deeply, personally.  
  
" You heard him Logan," Bryn dropped, shuffling her feet until she faced him down the hall. " One year, maybe."  
  
Even from ten metres away Logan could see the light reflecting off the tears welling in her eyes.  
  
Logan could not ever recall being afraid of death - but then again, he'd never had anything worth losing.  
  
" We're goin inta the Templar Administration," he told her firmly, starting forward. " We'll find a cure."  
  
" A cure for what?" she wavered, losing her fight with the tsunami of shock and hopelessness that she had up until now kept from engulfing her. " Everyone knows that you can't cure mutation."  
  
" Everyone knows that you can't artificially create mutation either," he pointed out, moving slowly toward her like one might do an injured but potentially dangerous animal. " But you're obviously the exception ta that rule."  
  
" If they had a cure, they would have used it," she countered - it didn't make sense to her, that they would let her die if indeed they had made her, as seemed to be the case.  
  
" Not necessarily," Logan disagreed, moving closer still, planting each footstep as lightly as he could so as not to startle her. " The worst man I have ever known once worked with Dylan Barlow, the guy who is responsible for your condition, and I wouldn't put it past him ta be holdin back on that cure, so he could control you."  
  
" But why??" Bryn choked, though deep down she knew the answer.  
  
A stream of hot tears burned their way down her cheeks as Logan placed his hands gently on her upper arms and peered into her face, with more sympathy than he thought he had ever felt - why me was the one question he had asked himself over and over again, though now he was not sure if he wanted to know, particularly if he had actually volunteered.  
  
" Whatever the reason," he began gently, trying to sooth the sobs that shook her. " It was wrong, and we're gonna make him pay."  
  
Bryn dropped her chin, ashamed of how pathetic she was acting, though she could not think of how else one might deal with the situation in which she now found herself - hunted in a foreign country by a paramilitary organisation, facing a death sentence caused by mutated genes and a strange group of mutants who seemed to be on her side?  
  
The world had gone mad, there was little doubt of it.  
  
Bryn felt weak and vulnerable, but somehow this man seemed so concerned for her, so willing to risk his life for her, that her tears began to slow.  
  
" I don't, I don't want to be so, pathetic," she managed, glancing back up into his eyes. " But I am afraid."  
  
A stricken scowl excavated canyonous furrows across his forehead and Logan could not help but draw Bryn into his arms.  
  
" We're gonna protect you," he whispered into her hair. " I'm gonna protect you."  
  
Bryn suddenly felt the urge to scream and tantrum rising up in her - of course there was nothing patronising about his tone, nor did she doubt that he believed what he said, but how could that really comfort someone just told they had a year to live - maybe.  
  
His hold was firm, but with her strength returned, Bryn pried herself from his chest and stepped back, pulling the IV stand with her. She said nothing, not daring to open her mouth again should a banshee screech escape, roaring out her fear, her desperate fear and how tragically unfair the whole situation was.  
  
She internalized it, and backed away with a nod, keeping her face as blank as possible.   
  
Logan's chest felt tight, like magnets were squeezing his metal reinforced ribcage, prickling his heart with adamantium spikes.  
  
Bryn turned and walked away, returning to the medical lab, leaving Logan to wonder what next to do. Jean would have known how to rest that demon fear from Bryn's heart, she would have known the right words and had the right touch to allay uncertainty and apprehension.  
  
She was gone.   
  
Rogue saw Bryn to a comfortable room upstairs and handed her a pile of clothes.  
  
" Maybe when ya feelin better, we could go shoppin," she suggested, watching Bryn move numbly to the window and peer out through the rolling beads of water at the lush, green garden below.  
  
Bryn didn't answer.  
  
" Oh well," Rogue shrugged, trying to remain cheerful. " These clothes should do for now, you and Jeanie have very similar builds."  
  
" Thanks," Bryn murmured, and Rogue didn't know what else to say, backing silently out and closing the door.  
  
Doctor McCoy had told her to avoid using her telekinesis as much as she could. He had explained that Logan's white blood cells might serve as a short-term remedy, but were not the key to curing her. The good news was that the deterioration was not exponential - if she didn't use her powers, it would continue at the same rate regardless of how ill she became.  
  
She had called her parents in Australia, managed somehow to convince them that they needed to stay at home and not to worry. Her mother had cried, her father tried to hide it and told her to look after herself - and she hadn't even had the heart to tell them that her time was limited. She had held it together and though she felt worse for having heard their voices, knowing she may never see them again, her tears were spent, there were no more.  
  
The afternoon ticked by, and still Bryn did not move, it was as if she moved that the world felt more real - if she remained immobile then she could float in the void in her mind and feel nothing.  
  
" Will you lock yourself away forever?" the Professor's voice echoed between her ears.  
  
Bryn didn't turn around, she knew she would not find him physically there.  
  
" I don't have forever," she said out loud, her breath forming nebulous clouds against the cold glass.  
  
" Is that not a reason to live every second?" he perked.  
  
" Please stay out of my head Professor," she told him in a monotone.  
  
The door opened, followed by the mechanical whir of an electric wheelchair.  
  
" I apologise," Xavier said solemnly, extending an appropriate expression even though she had her back to him still.  
  
" A year ago, the father of a close friend of mine was told he had an aggressive type of cancer, that it would kill in within twelve months," Bryn said out of the blue. " I cried and cried, not because I felt sorry for him or his family, but because I was so glad it wasn't me."  
  
" That is natural," Xavier assessed.  
  
" Now it is me," Bryn went on.  
  
" We cannot be sure that there isn't a way to reverse the gene manipulation," Xavier told her.  
  
" But you do know there is no way to reverse mutation."  
  
" Natural mutation."  
  
" You struggle don't you?" Bryn perked, turning slowly and blinking across the bed at him.  
  
" Struggle?" he frowned, not quite sure what she meant.  
  
" Whether it is better to encourage hope where there can be none and have the last blow be absolutely crushing, or whether to foster acceptance that the end comes more gently."  
  
Bryn could not read his thoughts, nor did she know him at all, except for this one, insightful, observation. Xavier did not answer right away, considering what she had said carefully.  
  
" I believe it is better to live what life you have, however short," he replied finally.  
  
" The human mind was never so rational," Bryn murmured, turning back to the window, adding her last so quietly Xavier struggled to hear it. " But then again, I'm not entirely human any more am I?"  
  
" You have two choices," Xavier told her plainly, reaching for that part of her he knew was in fact rational. " You can accept what is and move on with life, or, you can effectively die now."  
  
He left her with that thought, adding it to the pile already banked up in her mind, but Bryn heard it - doing it however, was another matter entirely.  
  
The walls clawed at her hungrily, the warmth pouring through the heating vents wrapped itself around her, squeezing until she could no longer stand to be in that room - she ran, trying to escape the voices, and found herself outside.  
  
It wasn't long before the rain drenched Bryn's hair, and her clothes, and squelched in her boots. Rivers ran down her face, her neck, her hands, but she ignored it, walking slowly across the grassy compound toward a lightly treed area.  
  
The property was extensive - she had not yet seen a gate or fence, not that she was looking terribly hard.  
  
There was a pond at the center of the trees. The rain ruptured its dark surface angrily, though beneath, the Japanese koi swam unperturbed by the savage weather above.  
  
Ignoring the shivers that she could no longer control, Bryn sat down on the concrete edge and exhaled a long, visible breath. In her head a hundred thoughts raced, all at once, in all directions - some she could make out, audible, tangible, but others existed as fragments there and then gone and quickly replaced.  
  
She had long felt that her mind filtered much less than most people, but had always been able to sort through the rubble and make sense of the white noise, but now the crescendo inside her skull reached fever pitch and there was only panic and the ever-increasing sense that the walls were constricting around her.  
  
Quivering lips parted, a violent scream gathered momentum in her lungs then roared up her esophagus and leapt from her tongue.  
  
The air vibrated with a yell so forceful, so filled with anguish that even windows in the distant mansion shuddered for the duration. Bryn poured every inch of energy, all the emotional trauma, the claustrophobia, and isolated anguish into that sound, driving it from her bones and flesh and thoughts until there was no breath left in her.  
  
The silence that followed as her head lowered and her body slumped, was perhaps even more deafening than the cry itself - it rushed in to fill the crater around her, but, at least it was singular.  
  
" Feel better?" Logan inquired cautiously, and Bryn turned her head slowly to see him appear from behind the trees on the boundary side of the pond.  
  
" A little," she answered, surprisingly unembarrassed.  
  
" Probably won't last ya know," he ventured in an offhand tone, as he swaggered in her direction. " Seeing as you're likely ta spend the next two weeks hold up in bed with a wicked cold."  
  
" I like the rain," she smiled vaguely, her skin bitingly cold with prickling goose pimples.  
  
" Well you're not exactly dressed for an all weather adventure."  
  
It was then that Logan recognized the soaked sweater that she was wearing.  
  
" Come on," he urged, walking around the pond and standing right in front of her.  
  
" Did the Professor send you, or are you following me of your own volition?" Bryn dropped unexpectedly, blinking up at him sharply with an expression that demanded and answer, and a truthful one.  
  
" Ah, actually, I was makin some adjustments to an old bike in the shack I have out the back here, when I nearly put a screwdriver through the fuel tank."  
  
" Sorry," she apologized flatly, getting to her feet and stepping around him.  
  
" Hey wait a minute," Logan frowned, catching her arm, and Bryn's head snapped to glare into his face.  
  
" Whoa!" he coughed defensively, removing his hold and lifting his hands in a defensive gesture. " I'm just tryin ta help."  
  
" You don't know me," Bryn charged with unexpected ferocity, her eyes flashing with sudden anger. " Why would you care?  
  
Logan was not at all unfamiliar with the defensiveness that accompanied a feeling of dislocation, nor the quick shift in emotion that uncertainty could stir, so he knew not to be offended by her attack - it wasn't at him, that the real attack was directed.  
  
His reply came in a gentle rumble that filled Bryn's ears and leaked heavy warmth all throughout her body.  
  
" Because if we don't, who will?  
  
Bryn looked at her feet, as vehemently ashamed as she had been enraged a moment ago.  
  
" Come on," he said again, once more venturing to place a hand on her arm. " You're shivering."  
  
Bryn nodded meekly and allowed Logan to lead her to what constituted his shack - a small cabin of wood with a garage door front and a couple of windows.  
  
" Ahhh, here," Logan said, throwing aside some strips of grubby cloth and handing her a towel that had been underneath.  
  
" Thanks," she nodded, smiling thinly, but she began to towel her sopping hair.  
  
Logan removed his leather jacket and threw it over the back of a chair and then turned up the radiator.  
  
Bryn meanwhile peered around.  
  
The small slate floored building was divided into three sections as far as she could see, with a door at the far end and a partition that cordoned off a single unmade bed.  
  
" You sleep out here?" she inquired with a mild frown.  
  
" Sometimes," he answered, digging through another pile of clothes. " I spent the best part of sixteen years traveling on my own, sometimes too many people are just, unsettling."  
  
Bryn turned her head him, tilting it to one side a little.  
  
" You don't strike me as the type to get easily unsettled," she noted.  
  
" Crowds just aren't my thing," he shrugged. " Do you wanna dry shirt?"   
  
Logan held out a dark brown t-shirt to her tentatively, his brows rose in an expression that was supposed to tell her it was all right.  
  
" Ahh," Bryn hesitated.  
  
" It's clean," he promised.  
  
She took the shirt.  
  
" Where'd you get the bike?" she asked, as she walked around behind the neck high partition - just her long arms and the top of her head was visible as she removed her soaked top and hung it over the partial wall.  
  
" Won it," he answered shortly.  
  
Logan would have been lying if he said he didn't wish the partition wasn't there. Despite her predicament and the unpredictable way it was making her behave, there was something inexplicably appealing about her. She was tall and well proportioned, and though she was understandably vulnerable, her countenance and her eyes still warned of deep strength and intelligence - the trick would be to bring it out of her.  
  
It wasn't until she coughed that Logan realized that Bryn had stepped out from behind the partition in his shirt and was peering at him with eyebrows raised.  
  
" I'm going to assume you didn't hear me," she concluded, even managing a smirk.  
  
" Ahhh," he stalled.  
  
" Won it how?" she repeated, picking her way around the object strewn floor to closer inspect the motorcycle, like she knew anything about them.  
  
" Well, that's an interesting story," he began evasively, rubbing the back of his neck. " But the short of it was that the guy disagreed with me on the matter of mutant registration.  
  
" I see," she nodded, running her cold fingers over the now polished metal plate on the fuel tank, with the word Wolverine engraved in it.  
  
" Why Wolverine?" Bryn frowned, straightening as Logan opened a bar fridge and took out a bottle.  
  
" Beer?" he inquired.  
  
" Yeah," she replied, and he threw a bottle of Corona in her direction before even thinking about it.  
  
" Why Wolverine?" Bryn said again as she twisted the top of the bottle off and took a long pull of the yellowish liquid.  
  
" It was a name given ta me somewhere in my past," he answered, holding his arms out either side of him, even with his beer in one hand, and pushed out his razor claws.  
  
Bryn flinched as the adamantium spikes slid out from just above Logan's knuckles, but was surprisingly not afraid. Finding herself fascinated, she did not hesitate to scrutinize them much more closely, eventually touching his hand where the metal appeared to join with the skin.  
  
Logan shivered at her touch - her fingertips were icy cold.  
  
The claws retracted, but he took her hand in his, wrapping his large warm fingers around hers.  
  
" You're freezing!" he scowled, gently inching her back toward the radiator.  
  
" I've always had bad circulation," she shrugged, but did not pull away from him this time. " You don't like to talk about your past?" she pressed, grasping at this opportunity to drag her mind from her own misfortunes.  
  
" It's difficult when you don't remember much of it," he answered flippantly, but his eyes told Bryn that he was bothered by this.  
  
" Well then," Bryn murmured. " I suppose that makes us two of a kind. You don't have a past and I don't have a future."  
  
" Hey now," Logan frowned, and felt like that was all he did around her. " You're not dead yet."  
  
" No I'm not," she swallowed, then exhaled slowly.  
  
" Right," Logan affirmed. " So, what did you do before becoming a super mutant on the run?" he perked, but cringed internally - maybe she didn't want to talk about the home she had left behind.  
  
" Teaching," she answered, shifting a toolbox from a stool and sitting down in front of the radiator. " I ahh, stopped some guys from shooting a parent at school, and was floored the next day. Guess I drew too much attention for Barlow's liking."  
  
The words came with surprising ease, and as she spoke them, even though it was refreshing the haunting truth that was her situation, it felt oddly unburdening to retell her tale.  
  
" You're a teacher?" Logan perked - she did not look like any teacher he had ever seen, though granted he had not exactly seen a wealth of educators outside of Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters.  
  
Bryn nodded affirmatively.  
  
" History, English and Geography, but I can also take some psychology."  
  
" You'll fit right in around here then," Logan chuckled, then emptied his beer.  
  
Bryn followed suit before replying.  
  
" I'm not sure fitting in is what I want to do," she sighed, placing the bottle on the concrete floor beneath the stool. " I don't know if I can just go back to normal like that."  
  
She snapped her fingers.  
  
" I know what you mean," Logan nodded, feeling more and more akin to this woman the longer he spent with her.  
  
" Is it, too awkward a question for me to ask how you actually, know, Dylan Barlow?" Bryn said carefully - as the beer took its effect she felt less of her own fear and more of a need to know these people around her, particularly this Wolverine.  
  
Logan took another couple of beers from the fridge, and leaned over the motorcycle to hand one to Bryn, who took it, but kept her eyes on him intently.  
  
" It's all a little hazy," Logan began, perching himself on top of the bar fridge - his eyes were no longer focused on her, but looking upward, reaching into his memory. " But last year when that big human and mutant brain thing went down, I came across the guy that gave me the claws."  
  
" Stryker?" Bryn interrupted, and Logan nodded - she had been paying attention.  
  
" Apparently the story is, that before the, procedure, I worked for him, with Barlow, but the guy left ta do his own thing when Stryker refused ta give him the authority he wanted."  
  
" You don't remember specifics?" Bryn pushed - if this was the man that was responsible for her being the way she now was, then she wanted to know everything she could about him.  
  
" I remember that he's an asshole," Logan dropped. " And that he has little ta no respect for anything or anyone other than himself."  
  
" He's going to try and find me isn't he?" she concluded, turning the unopened bottle of beer over and over in her hands, absently watching the label do laps.  
  
" Yeah," Logan answered, and opened his mouth to reassure her, but she beat him to it.  
  
" I appreciate your honesty," she said with a smile, looking over at him solemnly. " And I appreciate that you donated your blood for me, and that everyone here seems to have genuine concern for me, what I don't understand is why?"  
  
Ok, so the question was a weighty one, but Logan couldn't help but smile.  
  
" You sound just like I did when I first came here," he noted, his own beer now also forgotten in his hand. " And when people are out ta get you, or you're running from something sinister it is difficult ta see why anyone would want ta do you a favour or help you out, but, these people just genuinely care about others."  
  
" And you came here, and stayed?"  
  
" I don't have anywhere else in particular ta go," he pointed out. " They're the only family I can ever remember having."  
  
Bryn didn't mean to be rude, but she couldn't help but yawn, though she covered it with her hand.  
  
" Sorry," she apologised, and though she was tired, she didn't want to go back to the mansion - for some reason she felt a connection to Logan, that his loss of past, and the way her future was threatened made them kindred spirits.  
  
Logan didn't need to be a mind reader to skim this much from her body language.  
  
" You're welcome to stay out here tonight," he offered, putting his beer down and standing up.  
  
Bryn blinked at him.  
  
" I don't want to get in your way Logan, you've been more than accommodating," Bryn said, though she was looking for any excuse to accept his offer.  
  
" It's not a big deal," he assured her quickly. " Ah, you can take the bed, I have a, a spare mattress here."  
  
Jumping awkwardly over an oil tray and various mechanic parts he pulled a tarp away from one pile against the other wall to reveal the before mentioned mattress.  
  
" I'll take the mattress," Bryn insisted, and cut him off again before he could protest. " This is your shack and it's your bed, so, the mattress will be fine."  
  
" Oh ok," he conceded. " There, should be some spare blankets, here," he indicated, opening what Bryn supposed constituted the linen closet, and removed and armful of blankets. " We can leave the radiator on."  
  
" It's great," Bryn smiled. " Thanks."  
  
Logan pulled the mattress down, tucked the sheet and blankets around it and even found her a pillow, and within fifteen minutes, the light went out.  
  
Bryn stared up at the ceiling, listening to the creek of springs on the other side of the partition as Logan climbed into bed.  
  
" Good night Logan," Bryn said softly, and she heard him turn over and speak directly at the thin partial wall that separated them.  
  
" Good night Bryn," he bid her soberly. " Sweet dreams."  
  
Bryn closed her eyes and tried not to think of how alone she felt, and eventually drifted into an uncomfortable sleep. 


	4. Super Glue

SUPER GLUE  
  
Bryn's heart raced, pumping vital blood to every starving muscle in her body. Her breath came quickly, panting as she ran, through the trees so quickly and blindly she had no time to swipe the branches from her path. The air was cold on her cheeks, moist with bloody scratches, white in the moonlight that filtered through the canopy. Her breath left a fading trail behind her, vehemently followed by urgent shouts and the rapid thud of heavy boots.  
  
" Cut her off on the other side!" Barlow barked into his radio, his own breath creating hazy plumes against the cold night.  
  
" Stop!" Bryn heard. " We will fire!"  
  
This and other demands saturated Bryn's skin though she did not obey them - her mind was set on one thing only.   
  
Escape.  
  
Sharp cracks sounded all around her, momentarily drowning out the voices, sudden black dots on the silky white bark of the trees.   
  
Bryn gasped, the air seemed razor sharp as she dragged in each lungful - then she exhaled, and could draw no more.  
  
She had emerged from the trees, the hunters close behind her, to find a tight ring of unregistered humvees awaiting her, lights bright, but not so bright to prevent her from seeing the silhouettes of armed Templar Administration soldiers standing, leaning, sitting, their weapons aimed at her.  
  
Bryn inhaled and lifted her arms, desperately concentrating of those obstacles - but nothing happened.  
  
" What??" she cried, trying, again, and again, and again, to focus, to move them as she had moved cars before - nothing.  
  
" You belong to me," Barlow declared smugly, stepping from the glare with that sickly grin splitting his face in two.  
  
" No!" Bryn ejected, stepping back, but finding her shoulders roughly taken hold of. " No!" she repeated as she tried to struggle, but she could no more dislodge them than she could lift those cars with her mutant ability.  
  
Barlow advanced, taking a syringe from his pocket.  
  
" And you will do what you're told, or life will be very, very unpleasant," he leered, taking off the plastic cap.  
  
" No! Don't! Let me go!"  
  
" Bryn?"  
  
" This will only sting a little," Barlow promised sarcastically.  
  
" No!" Bryn shrieked, squirming even as one of the soldiers behind her forced her arm to extend in Barlow's direction.  
  
" Bryn??"  
  
" You are mine," Barlow hissed.  
  
" Bryn???"  
  
The syringe dove beneath her skin, its contents forced into her blood stream.  
  
" Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!"  
  
Bryn sat bolt up right and came face to face with Logan, who was crouched beside the mattress, one hand on her arm.  
  
" Bryn it's ok, it was just a dream," he soothed quickly, his other hand moving to her right shoulder to steady the shakes that racked her body.  
  
Her panting continued as she stared at him wide-eyed, a film of sweat bleeding into thin streams that trickled from her forehead and down the sides of her face.  
  
" Nahh, haa, haa," she breathed, her lips quivering. " It was Barlow, and I couldn't use my power, and he..."  
  
" Shhhhh," Logan exhaled, drawing her forward against his bare chest and wrapping his strong arms around her. " It was a nightmare darlin, nothin more," he whispered into her tangle of hair. " Barlow ain't gonna hurt you."  
  
Bryn drew in some very long, very deep breaths, and slowly her heart began to resume its regular beat. There was sanctuary there, in that roguish voice, with her cheek pressing against the skin of his shoulder, with his hands firmly on her back.  
  
" Logan!" came a sharp call, a bang on the outside of the garage door, and then a shudder as it rolled abruptly upward, spilling the pale light of early morning into the cabin.  
  
Though he recognised the voice, Logan's arm instinctively tensed around Bryn, but both his head and hers turned to the figure that peered unceremoniously under the half raised door.  
  
If they could have seen past Scott's sunglasses, they would have seen him blinking in surprise, but as it was, it was clearly evident by the sharp lifting of his eyes brows.  
  
" Yeah?" Logan dropped in pointed question.  
  
" Actually I came to tell you that Bryn was missing, but I see you found her," Scott replied, and his words emerged as if he had just swallowed something sour.  
  
" She's fine," Logan declared caustically, and though Bryn had since looked away from the door and rest her chin on Logan's shoulder, the minefield between he and Scott was painfully obvious - what caused it she did not know.  
  
" Sure she is," Scott responded icily. " Get to the Ready Room, we have a problem."  
  
With that, Scott slammed the door down.  
  
Bryn let out an explosive breath and she felt Logan's hands slide down her back and fall away.  
  
" Sorry about that," he apologised as she sat back a little, removing her arms from him but still remaining close.  
  
" For what?" she asked, wiping one cheek and looking sheepish. " I'm the one who should be sorry, I feel like a right baby."  
  
" Don't," he was quick to say. " I know a little about nightmares."  
  
A silence then settled as they just sat there for a few long moments, but it only became uncomfortable when Logan cleared his throat.  
  
" Hah, do you want ta shower?" he asked, standing up.  
  
" You saying I smell?" she perked with mock seriousness, but softened her face when Logan looked stricken.  
  
" No, no of course not, I just thought..."  
  
" I know," she grinned, dragging herself to her feet.  
  
" Right," he exhaled, and it was his turned to look sheepish. " I'll ahh, find some clean clothes for you," he added as she shuffled toward the back section where a door led to a tiny bathroom.  
  
" Here."  
  
Logan threw her a towel, and Bryn disappeared.  
  
When the door clicked such, Logan forced himself to relax, exhaling a long breath and running a hand through his hair.  
  
Of all the people to just drop in at that moment it had to be Cyclops - but then again, Bryn was a beautiful woman, who didn't seem at all disturbed by his quirks, in fact she seemed comforted in his presence, why should he feel embarrassed because of that?  
  
With this thought in mind, he set about locating some suitable attire.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, he and Bryn pushed into the Ready Room beneath the mansion, to find everyone else waiting there.  
  
Both Bryn and Logan stopped however, when they saw the projection on the white board.  
  
It was a photo of Bryn, a recent one from the staff photos at her school, but that wasn't the problem - the real point was the information surrounding it.  
  
Murder.  
  
Assault.  
  
Murder.  
  
Weapons trafficking.  
  
Murder.  
  
" M, murder!" Bryn exclaimed with a fierce scowl. " What? No! Professor, I, I did not do that, I'm not..." she looked frantically around the room, searching each face for any sign that they believed what they saw. " You have to believe me!"  
  
" We do," Xavier nodded sincerely - still however, she looked around, so he added. " We all do."  
  
" Where the hell did that come from?" Logan questioned, feeding off Bryn's suddenly uptight emotional state and turning it into growling outrage.  
  
" We were looking for profiles of Dylan Barlow and Julian Templar when Scott stumbled upon an Agent Barlow registered with the FBI, who is hunting down a skilled assassin illegally in the US."  
  
" Agent Barlow?" Logan choked.  
  
" Skilled assassin?" Bryn followed.  
  
" This story would explain why Bryn has no papers, why there are no flight records and because there is no real investigation, there would be no noise about trial or conviction."  
  
" I just disappear," Bryn concluded, sinking down onto a chair, but glaring at the screen like she wanted to crush it - she held back, clinging to rationality in this reality that seemed more and more unlike her life.  
  
" Which is what, for the time being at least," Xavier said calmly. " I think you should do."  
  
" What?" Bryn frowned, focusing back on him.  
  
" We're going to infiltrate Templar HQ in Trenton," Storm explained. " We're going to get all the information about your condition that we can."  
  
" But if Barlow starts nosin 'round an somehow tracks ya 'ere," Gambit went on. " Wit real police in tow..."  
  
" It will put you in a compromising position," Bryn finished, nodding, gathering her thoughts. " You're right, I should, ahh, go, somewhere."  
  
Logan opened his mouth but Xavier's first word was already spoken.  
  
" Yes," he agreed. " And that's where Logan comes in."  
  
" Wait a minute," Cyclops began, but Xavier continued because he knew that there was a high probability this oncoming protest had nothing to actually do with duty.  
  
" Bryn's profile has no doubt been distributed to every facet of law enforcement in the area, if not the entire country, so you need to take Bryn as deep into unpatrolled country as you can."  
  
Bryn sat listening to this, nodding her head, but her spine felt like jelly. As if sensing this, Logan placed his hand on her shoulder.  
  
" When do you want us ta leave?" he asked.  
  
" As soon as possible," Xavier answered.  
  
" Professor," Scott whispered coarsely, leaning down so only Xavier could hear, though Logan's distinctly sharp hearing was the exception to that rule. " Do you really think it's wise to send Bryn out with Logan? Alone?"  
  
" They'll never truly be alone," Xavier answered reasonably. " I shall watch their progress using Cerebro, and we'll keep in touch using the communicators."  
  
" That isn't what I meant," Cyclops hissed, and Logan stepped forward, while Bryn watched curiously, her latest challenge momentarily forgotten.  
  
" I know what your problem is bub," Wolverine began in a warning, but obviously restrained fashion. " And you need ta drop it."  
  
" How about I drop you??" Scott snapped back.  
  
" You really wanna invite that kinda pounding?" Logan retaliated, drawing closer - then Bryn intervened, by standing up.  
  
" Hey!" she called bluntly, and everyone turned to look at her. " I don't mean to break up the imminent bitch fight or sound all me me me, but, perhaps we should get moving? Logan?" she perked.  
  
Logan glared for a few seconds longer at Cyclops before backing down.  
  
" Storm, Rogue, why don't you help Bryn pack some things, Gambit, prep the jet ad cross mark all co-ordinates," the Professor instructed, and Storm touched Bryn's arm, turning her away though she would have taken Logan with her.  
  
When they were gone, Cyclops rounded on Logan.  
  
" You don't waste any time..." he dropped acridly.  
  
" Time doin what?" Logan charged.  
  
" Come on, you're all over that girl!"  
  
" She was scared, I comforted her," Logan spelt out.   
  
" Oh she looked comfortable all right," Cyclops spat, and Logan could feel the adamantium claws splitting through the flesh of his knuckles.  
  
" Enough!" Xavier barked uncharacteristically, silencing them both and forcing them to step away from each other. " This has gone on long enough," he elaborated. " This ridiculous rift is not about Bryn, nor is it about Logan's conduct..."  
  
" It has everything to do with Logan's conduct!" Cyclops objected.  
  
" She turned me down Scott," Logan declared, rolling his eyes. " For you, her dying? That was no more my fault than it was yours."  
  
" Logan go," Xavier instructed. " Prepare to leave as soon as you can."  
  
Logan did not hesitate, but did afford Cyclops one last withering glance before leaving.  
  
" I don't appreciate being told off like a child, in front of the others," Scott said, quietly seething. " Especially not him."  
  
" I can understand why you dislike Logan, Scott," Xavier said in a reasonable tone. " You were grieving for Jean and were angry that he pursued his feelings for her."  
  
" Of course I'm angry!" Scott snapped. " She's my wife!"  
  
There was a short silence - Scott realised his incorrect verb tense and looked to his feet.  
  
" It was originally affecting only your relationship with Logan, but now it is having an effect on your leadership role within the X-men."  
  
" I know," he admitted, and there was no shortage of bitterness there.  
  
" The question is, how you choose to deal with it now."  
  
" Logan'll look after you sugah," Rogue reassured, as she, Bryn and Storm came down the stairs with one full bag.  
  
Bryn felt a little better about the idea of dropping off the map now, having been told how heroically Logan had acted to save Rogue when Magneto had threatened New York.  
  
With a change of clothes and a bag full of others, she felt more comfortable and better prepared for what was to come, whatever that turned out to be.  
  
Just outside the front door, Logan, Doctor McCoy, Gambit and the Professor were waiting for them.  
  
" Your bike's ready for a road trip then?" she perked, skipping down the steps as they attached the small trailer.  
  
" I don't think Cyclops would be too happy if I took his, again," Logan chuckled, taking her bag and tucking it into the trailer.  
  
" We're going now yeah?" she swallowed.  
  
" The open road awaits," he grinned, shutting the trailer door and locking it.  
  
Bryn swallowed again, turning to the Professor.  
  
" I'm not sure that anything I can say will be thanks enough what you've done, what you're doing for me," she said solemnly, looking into his face.  
  
" Just keep Logan out of trouble," Xavier smiled warmly. " And I have the feeling you may yet have the opportunity to thank us."  
  
" We'll never be far away," Storm promised, pressing a communicator into Bryn's palm. " Just a call away."  
  
" Good luck in Trenton," Logan told them all. " I wish I was goin with you guys."  
  
" Nah ya don't," Rogue said quietly as she hugged him, and Logan winked at her conspiratorially before straddling the bike.  
  
Bryn guessed there were no helmets, just the seat behind him and the will to hang on, and so she did just that.  
  
" Good bye," she sniffed, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. " Go," she spurred into Logan's ear, and the motorcycle's engine roared to life and they moved off down the drive.  
  
Like magic the gates opened and they sped through and off the property, and Bryn rest her head against Logan's back, her arms wrapped around his middle firmly.  
  
" You right back there??" he yelled against the rushing wind that whipped her hair around violently.  
  
" Yeah!" she replied, trying to loosen her grip a little, but she was fearful of falling.  
  
Before long however, Bryn became accustomed to the speed, to the openness and to the feeling of freedom that began to fill her, and eventually she could sit back with her hands just behind her own seat. Logan avoided all the major roads that might be patrolled and headed northwest along winding and badly kept streets, but Bryn didn't complain. She asked for nothing, neither food nor rest, Logan suspected it was because she didn't want to be a burden or feel any more like a child than she already did, so Logan made a point of stopping every few hours to stretch and refresh.  
  
" Do you know exactly where we're heading?" Bryn asked at one such stop, six hours from the mansion and well out of Washington.  
  
" Not exactly," Logan replied, which didn't sound reassuring. " Somewhere in the Canadian Rockies."  
  
" I've never been very fond of camping you know," Bryn admitted.  
  
" Well, I used to live out of a back pack so I suppose camping is a bit of a luxury."  
  
" I'm sorry," Bryn responded, looking down at her boots from where she sat on a rock beside the road.  
  
" It's not your fault," Logan told her quickly. " If anything it's made me more versatile, I mean Cyclops wouldn't last a night out on his own in the forest."  
  
Bryn could have probed further about there relationship there, but felt that it was better she not upset Logan, seeing as he was now truly the only one with any influence over whether she was caught, or whether she lived or died.  
  
They rode on until they reached the border, where Logan was forced to stop for gas and to make a final check over their supplies.  
  
" There won't be many stores where we're goin," he told her as he shut the trailer.  
  
" Ok, I'm just going to the bathroom one last time then," she nodded, and headed around to the side of the small border diner to where the toilets were.  
  
They were as she expected, grotty, revolting, but still serviceable - still, she did her business quickly, fixed up her hair as best she could and then stepped outside.  
  
Just as she rounded the corner of the one story building, a couple of uniforms caught her view on the far side of Logan's bike - where he was, she could not see. Instantly Bryn pulled herself back, flat against the rough wooden wall, her heart suddenly racing with alarm.  
  
What if they had seen Barlow's alert?  
  
What if someone has already coupled her with the bike?  
  
Bryn peeked around the corner to find the pair of police officers peering in her direction because the gas station attendant was pointing that way.  
  
" Shit!" she cursed, turning back again, then tentatively around the corner.  
  
They were heading her way, with their hands each on one hip, the hip where their gun resided.  
  
Bryn swallowed, her eyes darting about her wildly, but before she knew it her feet were moving, carrying her to the back of the building, behind gas tanks and a dormant generator to the other side, where several men turned to look at her from their picnic tables.  
  
Through the window and out through front door of the store Bryn could see that the bike still stood alone.  
  
" Logan?" she hissed through her teeth in frustration, and almost immediately two hands came up under her arms and took hold of them, moving her forward.   
  
Bryn's first instinct was to struggle.  
  
" Come on," came a hoarse whisper in her ear, and that was all she needed to comply, moving with Logan straight to the bike.  
  
" Do they know?" she questioned as she climbed behind him and threw her arms around his waist.  
  
" You wanna wait here and find out?" Logan inquired rhetorically, bringing the bike to roaring life and turning a tight circle to pull them back onto the road.  
  
He wasted no more time, no more procrastinating, he hit the accelerator and did not slow until the winding of the road made it impossible to maintain such a high velocity. Bryn just hung on saying nothing, trusting that he knew best.  
  
The border of the US and Canada was now behind them, though they had passed no checkpoint or barrier as Bryn had expected they might have to and figured only that Logan had taken a much less travelled route.  
  
For a long stint they continued moving, three, maybe four hours, until Logan pulled off the road and began carefully to navigate through the trees.  
  
Then he stopped.  
  
" We walk from here," he declared, climbing off, opening the trailer and beginning to empty it.  
  
" I just have to trust that you know what you're doing," Bryn said hesitantly as she looked around - they'd only gone maybe five minutes into the trees but she doubted she could have made it back to the road on her own. " I don't mean to doubt you Logan but, I'm already lost."  
  
Logan paused to look at her seriously in the face.  
  
" Trust me," he said firmly, and Bryn could but only nod - this did not satisfy Logan, who wanted to be sure.  
  
He dropped the hiker's pack onto the pine needle strewn ground and drew closer to Bryn, gently taking her by the shoulders.  
  
" I mean it," he impressed, trying to bore his way into her eyes that seemed to only cast back his own reflection. " Trust me."  
  
" I trust you," Bryn said after a few seconds, curling her fingers around his right hand and removing it from her shoulder. For a split second there Logan caught a true glimpse of what lay beyond the fortifications defending those mahogany meres before all the guard snapped back into place.  
  
Logan loaded up as much of the gear into his pack as would possibly fit, leaving Bryn to carry a minimal load and for that reason Bryn didn't have any trouble keeping pace. The deeper they went into the wilderness, the more safe Bryn felt, the more free, and the more she was able to appreciate the beauty of the Canadian environment.  
  
They walked for near on two hours before the light made it too dangerous to proceed, and Logan was quick to throw camp, producing two super light weight tents from Bryn's pack and putting them both up in less than ten minutes. Meanwhile, Bryn gathered firewood and stacked it appropriately, and before long, a raging campfire and even a couple of suitable logs to sit on, took pride of place at the centre of their small camp.  
  
" This is almost civilized," Bryn smiled as she rolled the sausages over in the frying pan.  
  
" Better than the grub they serve at the mansion," Logan noted as he popped the top off a beer and offered it to her.  
  
" No thanks,' she refused politely, sliding four sausages onto a tin plate, along with some instant mash potato from what she would have called a billy.  
  
" Are you in any pain?" he asked, seemingly out of the blue. " Because the Professor gave me a crap load of drugs if..."  
  
" I'm fine," she replied. " I just..."  
  
She scratched the back of her neck.  
  
" I'm confused," she admitted. " On the one hand I am afraid - I'm out here in the middle of nowhere with a man I hardly know, hiding out from gun totting maniacs, but, this place, it's so quiet, so beautiful, and, I feel like somehow I have known you longer than I truly have."  
  
Logan smiled through the short pause that followed, that was broken when Bryn handed him his plate.  
  
" I suppose," she began again, but restarted. " Have I thanked you today??" she finished, taking up her own plate and filling it.  
  
" Only about ten times," Logan replied around a large chunk of sausage.  
  
" Well I just want to be sure that you know," she smiled sheepishly, scraping her fork across her plate. " Even," she ventured. " Even if I'm not exactly sure why."  
  
" Why you're thankful?"  
  
" No, why you're helping me," she clarified, prodding her meal restlessly. " I've seen maybe a fraction of what the Templar Administration can do, what they're willing to do and I'm not seeing any immediate benefits for you to get in their way..."  
  
During this little ramble Logan had put down his fork, and beer and finally stopped her with an almost cold look that made her back straighten instantly.  
  
" Ahh," she murmured.  
  
" When I was searching for my past," he began plainly. " When Magneto was tryin ta turn everyone inta mutants by killing Rogue, when, when Nightcrawler attacked the President and didn't know why, they helped, and their reasoning? Because they could, and because no one else could."  
  
Bryn swallowed, feeling like maybe she had offended him, but he continued.  
  
" I spent the best part of sixteen years caring about nothing and no one, but you've been fucked over, just like I was and I'll be damned if I let Barlow or anyone hurt you again."  
  
It was when Bryn sniffed quietly that Logan realised Bryn's cheeks sparkled in the flickering firelight.  
  
" Oh hey," Logan frowned, moving around the fire to sit down next to her, placing his hand tentatively on her knee.  
  
" You should be pretty used to seeing me cry by now," she sniffed again, looking down at her plate, when the touch of his hand on her cheek made her look up.  
  
" It ain't gettin any easier," he told her gently, brushing away the tears that clung to her skin, peering into her eyes.  
  
Had Bryn not just met this man two days ago she might had said in that moment that she was in love, but her rational mind was well awake and told her that what she truly was experiencing in the hastening beat of her heart, was saviour syndrome - What she couldn't explain however, was what Logan was feeling.  
  
" It is for me," she assured him, placing her hand over his that still rest against her cheek - part of her wanted him to kiss her, the part that craved closeness and familiarity, but she knew that if it came to it the part of her responsible for her survival and well being would cause her to pull away.  
  
Logan felt torn - there was something drawing him to this woman, and yet he had met her only a short period of time ago - then there was the whole thing with Barlow, or maybe that was what made her so appealing.  
  
" It's normal ta feel," he began, but found himself of two minds as what to say next - Bryn made up his mind.  
  
" Tired?" she inquired, but she had the feeling he had been going to say something else entirely - Logan nodded.  
  
" You're right, it's gettin late and we have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow."  
  
Another few seconds passed before either of them moved, but it was Bryn that eventually shifted her position and began to gather up the cooking bits and pieces.  
  
" Leave those," Logan urged. " You cooked, I'll clean up, just, go and get some rest."  
  
" Are you sure?" Bryn frowned. " I'd hardly have called it cooking."  
  
" It's fine," he insisted, gesturing toward her tent, and with a smile, she turned, then paused - Bryn pecked Logan on the cheek and ventured one last look into his face.  
  
" Good night," she said soberly, and then disappeared into her tent for the night.  
  
Logan stood there and watched her go, the tingling spreading from his face all over his body.  
  
" Stop it," he grumbled to himself as he scraped the food scraps into a bag and tied it off. " Stupid."  
  
Bryn listened to Logan pottering around for some time before exhaustion overwhelmed her, but she found no refuge there in the darkness. As if it was not bad enough that Barlow hunted her waking hours, so too did he chase her through her dreams.  
  
When she woke it was still pitch black, her body vaulting forward through the cold air of the tent, her hands flinging out so quickly her fingernails squealed down the nylon of the tent.  
  
" Heh, heh, haaa," she panted, trying to catch her breath, trying to force away Barlow's image hovering over her so hard it wasn't until the zip on her tent was falling that she noticed.  
  
" Bryn?" Logan voice whispered softly, and the fear in her began to flee instantly.  
  
Bryn rubbed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths as Logan poked his head into the tent, the beam of a torch focused down.  
  
" Another nightmare?" he concluded, and Bryn nodded.  
  
" Yeah," she replied sheepishly. " I'm ok," she went on slowly, peering at him from beneath her sleeping bag. " But I, wouldn't mind some company."  
  
Logan looked surprised by this comment for just a moment, before nodding, shuffling into the tent and zipping it up behind him.  
  
" I just," Bryn began again, when there was an awkward silence with both of them sitting there.  
  
" I know," he interrupted, and slid up beside her, laying down.  
  
" You'll freeze to death," she whispered as Logan turned the torchlight out, but Bryn had already begun to pull the sleeping bag around him.  
  
Tentatively Bryn rest her head against his side, but when she felt his arm move under her head and coil around her she felt comfortable enough to nestle against his chest.  
  
" You go back inta that dream," Logan whispered against the top of Bryn's head. " And tell that bastard I'm watching him."  
  
Bryn let out a small laugh, and Logan felt her relax against him.  
  
This was a strange closeness that Logan had never really experienced before - of course he had been with women, but there was a distinct difference between physical pleasure and the depths of this protectiveness, or intimacy that was not about sex.  
  
As sleep claimed them both, Logan wondered if it might have been that way with Jean if she had not chosen Scott - but that was just idle fancy - she was dead.  
  
Bryn's eyes shot open - light was touching the world outside the tent, but everything was silent. There were no birds, no wind, not even the sound of Logan breathing beside her - but there was strangely no alarm. Peering around, Bryn gently lifted Logan's arm from around her waist and slipped from beneath the sleeping bag, pausing briefly to watch him shift, but remain asleep. The tent zip made no sound as Bryn lowered it, and pulled it up again from the other side, nor did her bare footfalls from the tent, into the trees.  
  
In wonder Bryn watched as crystalline flakes of white began to fall from the sky and blanket the forest landscape. Though wearing only a t-shirt and her tracksuit pants Bryn did not feel the slightest bit cold, and continued into the forest until she came to a clearing that looked out over a vast expanse of deep water.  
  
" It's beautiful here," she said out loud, the first sound for what seemed like a very long time.  
  
" Isn't it?" came a female voice, and Bryn turned her head to the left to find a woman standing there beside her. She had short styled red hair and was wearing what knew was an X-men uniform, though she was not one that she had talked to at the mansion.  
  
" I am Phoenix," she explained with a friendly smile.  
  
" You're Jean Grey," Bryn said, a little perplexed - she had seen Doctor Grey's photograph at the school.  
  
The woman nodded.  
  
" You're dead," Bryn continued.  
  
" Jean Grey is dead," she agreed. " But her memories, and her heart live on in this new form."  
  
" Where are we?" Bryn inquired, changing the subject as she again looked around her.  
  
" Above Alkalai Lake," Phoenix answered. " A place of many revelations and much hurt."  
  
As they walked, Phoenix elaborated.  
  
" But what am I doing here?" Bryn frowned, suddenly looking over her shoulder like she expected Barlow to come bursting from the bushes to tackle her.  
  
" Logan will bring you here," Phoenix expounded. " To hide from the ones that pursue you."  
  
" Is that the only reason?" Bryn questioned, looking sideways as the woman began to walk away.  
  
" He loved me," Phoenix said, glancing back to ensure Bryn was following. " And he feels in part responsible for my death."  
  
" He's looking for redemption?" Bryn concluded. " Using me as a substitute, for you."  
  
" Not using you," Phoenix disagreed, always calm and even in tone, like a kind schoolmistress and her favourite pupil. " But he is driven to protect you from harm, with his own life if necessary."  
  
" I believe that," Bryn smiled, and blushed when Phoenix caught her.  
  
" And I am glad to see at least he has begun to move on with his life," she nodded.  
  
" Has he?" Bryn perked. " If it is to here that he's come?"  
  
" He likes you," Phoenix smiled, a radiating smile that again brought warmth to Bryn's cheeks.  
  
" I like him," she responded. " But I doubt you're here to talk about that."  
  
Bryn followed as Phoenix led down the side of the hill, through thick scrub now dusted with white, and stopped seemingly for no reason. Silently Phoenix indicated with her right hand, and Bryn leaned down to scrutinize what she realised was a well-concealed entrance to a cave.  
  
" What?" Bryn began, turning around, but Phoenix was gone, and Barlow was in her face.  
  
" Shit!" Bryn cursed, her eyes shooting open, her body tensing, but it was into Logan's startled face that she found herself staring.  
  
" Good morning ta you too," he said with a wry half smile, which instantly relaxed her.   
  
" Sorry," she apologised, blushing and suddenly awkward.  
  
They lay facing each other, their ankles tangled, Logan's arm draped over her waist - it was warm and cosy, comfortable.  
  
" This is, nice," he said, his fingers twitching against the skin just beneath the hem of her t-shirt.  
  
" Yes it is," she agreed, forcing herself to make eye contact.  
  
" Do ya think it would be takin advantage if I kissed ya?" he asked seriously, and Bryn felt her heart begin to pound.  
  
" Yeah it would," she answered, matching his seriousness for a moment, before breaking into a smile. " But do it anyway."  
  
With strong hands Logan pulled Bryn to him, until their bodies rests against each other, before touching his lips to hers gently, so gently that Bryn could hardly believe that it was in fact this rough Wolverine that was kissing her.  
  
When they broke apart, Bryn rest her head beneath Logan's chin, breathing against his neck.  
  
" I had another dream," she said quietly.  
  
" Not a nightmare?" he rumbled.  
  
" No," she replied, and then expanded, for she was sure he would want to know. " Jean Grey," she began. " I think she's still alive."  
  
" What?" The exclamation came instantly and he was looking down at her.  
  
" Are we anywhere near Alkalai Lake Logan?" she asked, and she observed him blink in consternation.  
  
" How did ya know?" he frowned, propping himself up on his elbow and peering down at her.  
  
" She told me," Bryn answered. " We walked to the edge of the valley and there it was."  
  
" It was just a dream," he told her, a little more sternly than he had perhaps meant - inside he felt himself jumping at the possibility that Jean was still alive.  
  
" It ended with Barlow in my face," she continued. " Logan I have a feeling he knows where we are."  
  
" It was just a dr..." he began to say, but stopped, and Bryn thought she actually saw his ears perk up.  
  
" What?" Bryn frowned, also trying to listen, but she couldn't hear anything and he didn't answer.  
  
" What?" she repeated with more urgency. " Logan?"  
  
" Grab your clothes," he commanded, all but jumping out from under the sleeping bag. " Warm, quickly."  
  
" Logan?" Bryn barked, for he still had not told her what it was he heard.  
  
" Horses," he declared.  
  
That put a panic through Bryn, and sent her also flinging from the covers and throwing on her clothes. When she burst from the tent, Logan was rushing around grabbing various things - the last thing was her hand.  
  
" What about the food??" Bryn cried as he dragged her into the trees.  
  
" We don't need it," he assured her, forcing her into a run.  
  
The shrubs scratched her cheeks, her unprotected hands, but as they ran, the sky began to fall.  
  
" It's snowing!" Bryn hissed, pulled along as she stumbled.  
  
It was then she finally heard it - the rhythmic thud of hooves getting louder.  
  
" They're gaining!" she panted, her eyes trying to focus on the rush of green and white on the downhill slope - then she realised where they were.  
  
" Logan slow down," she urged.  
  
" No, come on," he insisted.  
  
" Logan, stop!" she barked, dragging him back until he stopped.  
  
" What?" he glowered.  
  
" She showed me a place to hide," Bryn panted.  
  
" Who did?"  
  
" Jean Grey," Bryn answered, scanning the trees for familiar landmarks. " There!"  
  
She pointed, and began through the scrub, with Logan close behind her.  
  
" Bryn!" he dropped, hearing the horses draw closer still, but his eyes grew wider when she indicated the narrow mouth of the concealed cave.   
  
" All right," he conceded, pushing away the creepers and entering the cave first, before he helped Bryn through and pulled her down.  
  
" It was real," Bryn whispered, her fingers tightly gripping Logan's thick jacket, the both of them peering out through the tiny gaps in the foliage. " She showed me."  
  
" Shhh," Logan soothed, as the thumping grew louder.  
  
" Fan out!" a shout came, and though Bryn had only heard his voice for a short period of time, she definitely recognised it as Barlow's - it sent a shudder down her spine that Logan also felt.   
  
" They're splittin up," Logan whispered.  
  
" They won't find us here," Bryn replied, recoiling from the entrance and tucking herself against the cold back wall of the cave. " She wouldn't have shown me otherwise."  
  
" Bryn," Logan breathed, peeling her off the wall long enough to put himself behind her and rest her back, sitting between his legs. " I watched the water crash down," he explained into her ear.  
  
" It doesn't matter now," Bryn smiled, though she was terribly afraid - she still had a deep sense that they would not be discovered in their little hidey-hole.  
  
The day passed slowly and mostly in silence, and by the time the sun began to sink Bryn's stomach was growling and both her feet were asleep.  
  
It had been quickly determined that Logan had left the communicator in a backpack at their camp, and that meant going back under the cover of darkness to retrieve it.  
  
This time, with Bryn resting in his arms, Logan had time to think about what she had said, what she had dreamt. It seemed strange that Bryn could have found so concealed a cave without some guidance, but Jean visiting her in a dream? It stirred a sadness in him, a memory of the love, the very first love he could actually remember as something more than flesh and the agony of losing it, not only to death, but never actually having it - her heart had always belonged to Scott, he knew that.  
  
He wondered why here had been the instinctual place for him to take Bryn, and it occurred to him that it had perhaps not been the most intelligent of locations, if Barlow knew that Stryker's base had been out there.  
  
" I'm sorry darlin," he whispered into Bryn's hair, and shifted, looking up into his face, and though it was no more than a few centimetres away she could barely see it now for the lack of light.  
  
" Sorry for what?" she inquired honestly - she certainly didn't blame him for anything.  
  
" Bringin ya here," he replied. " It's possible Barlow knew that I might come 'ere."  
  
" Because of Stryker's base?" she ventured.  
  
" How did you know about that?" he frowned.  
  
" Jean told me, about what you came looking for here, what you found, what you walked away from," Bryn smiled soberly, curling her fingers around his in a reassuring way. " And it doesn't matter why we're here, we're here now, so we deal."  
  
" I'm goin ta go and get the communicator," he told her, able to see her face clearly, even through the darkness. " I want you ta wait here."  
  
" No," she hissed. " I'm coming with you."  
  
" If..."  
  
" If nothing Logan," Bryn insisted. " If worst comes to worst I take the chance and blast them all into next week and you carry me out."  
  
" Bry..."  
  
" No more arguments," she grumped, pulling him forward, but waiting for him to go first. " You lead, I can't see a damned thing."  
  
Logan didn't argue, leading her out of the cave by the hand and back through the trees. As they crept through the darkness, Bryn could hear voices, some close and some more distant and fear grew inside her until her whole body ached. She still didn't understand how they could have found them, even if the police at the rest stop had seen and recognised them from the FBI release, how could they possibly have known exactly where they had camped.  
  
When they drew close to the camp, Bryn could see several figures around the campfire, and others wandering around with, and one of those voices belonged to Barlow. It was like a sharp, stabbing fear that made her stop in her tracks.  
  
" You stay here," he whispered, giving her hand a squeeze before letting it go.  
  
" No," she hissed. " You can't sneak in there, they'll see you, you have to let me get it."  
  
" Out of the question," he said quickly but definitely.  
  
" If you get caught by Barlow then I haven't got a hope out here alone," she pointed out, taking his arm. " We need horses."  
  
" You can't use ya powers," he pressed. " You..."  
  
" It'll take me all of five seconds to get the back pack," she insisted. " And neither of us get caught."  
  
" Bry..."  
  
" You're still arguing Logan," she dropped. " I need to be a little more proactive about this on the run business, so let me ok? Just point out which pack it's in."  
  
Logan sighed and narrowed his vision through the trees until he located the appropriate pack.  
  
" There," he pointed, and Bryn fixed her eyes on it.  
  
" Think you can get us some horses?" she whispered, breathing in slowly and preparing herself for the inevitable physical backlash of even a small amount of channeling her power.  
  
" Piece a cake," he declared. " Just stay down right?"  
  
" No problem," Bryn exhaled, and Logan slipped from her side and was consumed by the dark waving scrub.  
  
Swallowing, Bryn focused back in, forcing away everything else in her mind - the pack lay several metres behind the group around the camp fire, and that meant she had to move it around behind obstacles in order to prevent them from seeing it.  
  
Twenty seconds she judged, if she didn't run into any snags.  
  
The motion began, and instantly Bryn felt a rush of energy pulse through her body - using her hand as a focal point, she channeled this inexplicable force out through her fingertips, ensnaring the backpack and lifting it from the ground. It moved effortlessly, behind a tent, around a couple of trees, floating along as if held up by invisible strings.  
  
When the rough fabric touched Bryn's fingertips relief filled her, but already there was evidence of strain, a dull ache in the pit of her stomach and ringing in her ears - she ignored it, and began backing away from the camp.  
  
" The horses are down this way," Logan's whispered penetrated the darkness before his hazy breath appeared in the dimness. " Are you all right?"  
  
He took the pack from her and slung it over his shoulder.  
  
" I'm fine," Bryn replied quietly, swallowing hard.  
  
Logan led her down a slope through the trees to where two dark shapes lingered - snow had begun to fall again but the clouds had parted just enough to allow some moonlight to shine through the canopy.  
  
Bryn had had dreams like this before, running from bad guys through the forest on horseback, but never had it felt so real.  
  
" Mount up," he instructed, but waited until she was in the saddle before swinging up himself, and digging the communicator from the pack. " Let's go."  
  
Logan flipped the communicator open as they began to walk through the trees.  
  
" Xavier you read me?" he said quietly into the bottom section of it.  
  
" Logan?" came Beast's voice several long, long seconds later.  
  
" Hank," Logan smiled in relief. " We've had some company up 'ere, Barlow and his goons are tramplin through the forest on our tail."  
  
" That would explain Scott's report of the Trenton base being deserted."  
  
" Deserted?" Bryn exclaimed in a hiss.  
  
A shout rose up into the night from the camp behind them.  
  
" Where are they now?" Logan asked urgently.  
  
" Still on their way back," Beast replied.  
  
" Track the communicator," he instructed. " Or get Chuck in Cerebro, we could use a hand out 'ere."  
  
" Of course," Beast responded.  
  
" We're gonna be out of a touch for a while," he declared. " Things are about ta get interesting."  
  
With that, Logan flicked the communicator shut and tucked it into the pack, which was now safely secured over his shoulder.  
  
" They've discovered the horses," Bryn concluded, swallowing hard, gripping the reins, her knuckles white.  
  
" Then we'd better get the hell outta here," Logan suggested. " They're goin ta be an hour at least."  
  
Logan's mount leapt forward through the darkness, and Bryn's followed - all she could do was try to move with the shaking and uneven rhythm of the canter, focusing on her breathing as a wave of nausea flushed her body with heat.  
  
Even above the noise, Bryn could soon hear the sound of hooves behind them, pounding like her heart. Several times she had to bite down on a cry as her horse slipped on the ground, that was now covered with a thin layer of snow, that seemed now to glow, lighting the forest and all those in it. The surreal nature of this place, of dodging trees on horse back to evade evil scientists - it was something straight out of a James Bond film, but the sharp jarring of Bryn's body against the saddle made it clear it was all real.  
  
Logan divided his time between leading them on a safe and swift path through the dense forest, and looking back over his shoulder to ensure Bryn was all right. Beams of light split through the trees like lasers tearing their way through the dimness in search of their prey. A net became apparent, lights criss-crossed the path behind and suddenly ahead, like they had been waiting for the pair to make such a move.  
  
" This way!" Logan urged, and dragged his horse to the left and down a steep embankment. The animal let out a shrill cry as its hooves slid through the icy dirt, closely followed by Bryn who clung to the saddle horn to keep from being thrown off.  
  
The lights disappeared overhead as the terrain flattened out and once more the fleeing pair were consumed by the heavy veil of night. The clouds shifted across the partial moon, plunging them into a wall of pitch - but they moved still, in a trot, for the horses seemed to know the way.  
  
" Logan?" Bryn panted, dizzy for the lack of breath.  
  
" We have ta keep moving," he insisted - all Bryn could do was hang on.  
  
The snow continued to fall, even as the light of dawn awoke the rest of the frosty world.  
  
The horses ambled in a tired walk, and Bryn had long since slumped against the neck of her mount, with barely enough energy to stay on.  
  
" The fresh snow will cover our tracks," Logan declared, still bright and awake.  
  
" Logan, I need to rest," Bryn whispered, and as if in agreement, her horse stopped too.  
  
There had been no sign of the jet, and no further communications during the night.  
  
Logan stopped, dismounted, and carefully pulled Bryn from the saddle.  
  
" You hurt?"  
  
" A little," she murmured. " I need to sleep, where the hell is the jet?"  
  
The lethargy also dulled the fear of being caught - Bryn might have given herself up for a clean, warm bed.  
  
Logan sat in the snow, with Bryn cradled across his lap, and moved to dig the communicator from the pack he'd dropped down beside him.  
  
" Shit," he cursed, and even in her daze Bryn rolled her head to look up at him.  
  
" What?"  
  
" There's a hole in the pack," he answered.  
  
" The communicator?"  
  
" Gone."  
  
Bryn wanted to cry, but she was too cold and too tired.  
  
" What do we do now?" she exhaled numbly.  
  
" Can't build a fire," he noted.  
  
" They're going to find us," Bryn concluded in a resigned tone.  
  
" I'll build a shelter," he declared, moving her into the small hollow he had created.  
  
" Where the hell is Phoenix when you need her?"  
  
" What?" Logan frowned, as he trudged through the snow a little way and began to dig out a shelter.  
  
" The Phoenix," Bryn breathed. " Jean Grey.'  
  
" She's dead Bryn."  
  
Bryn closed her eyes, trying to drown out the discord in her body with the sounds of the forest.  
  
Branches snapped and crackled as the cold caused the wood to contract, birds hopping around caused lines of snow to drop from above, the horses nearby, as exhausted as Bryn was, nosing absently for something to eat. It was peaceful there, a natural lullaby that was pulling her towards sleep, that and the cold of the snow sapping the remains of her energy, energy that it seemed Logan still had in spades.  
  
" Stay awake," Logan prodded, lifting her to her feet again.  
  
" I can hear a helicopter," Bryn mumbled, looking to the sky.  
  
" They'll havta come through me," he growled, stowing her safely in the snow shelter.  
  
The thunder of hooves returned, it seemed their night on the run had done nothing to discourage their pursuers.  
  
Logan readied himself, slapping the horses into motion, hoping that maybe Barlow would follow them instead.  
  
He didn't.  
  
Barlow and his cohort reined in, in an impressive spray of snow.  
  
For a moment there was silence, and a sick smile of satisfaction spread across Barlow's face, despite the savage stare and defensive stance Logan held. He could feel the anger rising up inside him, tugging at his self-control, baiting him to just leap forward and tear Barlow into bloody pieces. He exhaled slowly, not sure how long he could hold back, or even if he wanted to.  
  
" Wolverine?" he inquired with a chuckle. " Well, you're certainly the last person I expected to see out here with my little fugitive."  
  
" I'm not your anything," Bryn spat, dragging herself to her feet and standing behind Logan, suddenly with more energy than she thought.  
  
" Though I am reassured," Barlow continued, still peering at Logan. " I'd hate to think that just anyone could evade me out here for so long."  
  
" Com'on bub," Logan growled. " You were always a bit of a lab geek."  
  
" True," Barlow agreed. " Stryker always gave you the best assignments, which is why I left, and, as you've no doubt discovered, my little triumph is quite powerful."  
  
" She'll break ya in half," Logan pointed out, ready at any moment to shoot out his claws and attack.  
  
" Not if she hopes to see out this year alive," Barlow dropped coldly, looking now to Bryn. " You've run enough now," he went on. " Your condition will only deteriorate without treatment."  
  
" You can fix me?" she questioned curtly.  
  
" Of course," Barlow frowned, as if this had been his intention all along. " We've invested a great deal of money in your development, that's true, but we're not completely insensitive to your situation, your health is of great concern."  
  
Logan was unable to suppress an incredulous growl from rising in his throat.  
  
For Bryn however, the outcome of the situation had already been decided. The X-men had found nothing in Trenton that could help cure her condition, and the man before her now was quite possibly her only chance at living.  
  
" Come on Wolverine," Barlow chided. " I know my methods differed from Stryker's, but you understand what I've tried to achieve here and look at her, she's almost perfect."  
  
Bryn stepped forward, but Logan flung his arm out to prevent her going any further.  
  
" I could implode him," she said plainly. " But the truth is, I need what only he can give me."  
  
She swallowed, as Logan looked into her face with a stricken frown.  
  
" You heard Beast," she whispered. " They found nothing. He's my only chance."  
  
She turned her head, and looked up at Barlow coldly.  
  
" I'll go with you Barlow, you will fix what you fucked up, or, I'll rip you to pieces."  
  
Bryn was surprised at how convincing she sounded, and how the aching seemed to fade into the background as she stared, holding what ground she had, as best she could under the circumstances.  
  
" What do you say Wolverine?" Barlow perked as he dismounted and slowly approached Bryn, who now stood a little in front of Logan. " Templar can always use good men, particularly ones with your talents."  
  
" I wanna see how this pans out," Logan answered with a curt nod - he wasn't stupid, Bryn had all but told him what role to play, and she was right, it was the only role that was going to let him stay with her. " If Templar pays nearly as well as Stryker, it might be worth sticking around."  
  
" Excellent," Barlow grinned conspiratorially, fluidly taking Bryn's wrists, and clicking a couple of cold metal bands around them.  
  
" What the hell?" Bryn frowned - they weren't handcuffs, just a pair of flat metal bracelets, perhaps two millimetres thick and one centimetre wide with no visible locks.  
  
" So you can't tear me to pieces," Barlow smirked, and instantly Bryn felt panic - she reached for her power, but it slipped through her fingers like smoke. The only defence she had had was now gone.  
  
" Take her to the helicopter," Barlow commanded, and Bryn did not struggle when she was led away from Logan, and so he took his cue from her, and remained calm.  
  
" Where'd you pick her up?" Barlow inquired, like he and Wolverine were old mates.  
  
" Side of the road couple of hours shy of the border," Logan replied gruffly, relaxing into his part, but watching Bryn disappear into the trees. " Was heading up here cause I'd heard Stryker'd trashed the base and she offers me a couple of grand to make her disappear - beautiful single woman, what are you gonna do?"  
  
Barlow chuckled and slapped Logan on the back.  
  
" She didn't tell you why?" Barlow probed.  
  
" She said someone had fucked with her royally, mutated her, I thought maybe Stryker, never thought of you."  
  
" That's the idea," he declared. " Shame about Stryker, the old man was good cover, poor competition though."  
  
The walked to a small clearing, where one helicopter was lifting off and another hovered near by waiting to land.  
  
" So what do you say Wolverine? Join the party?" Barlow questioned as the helicopter touched down and the door was opened for him.  
  
" What else have I got ta do?" Logan grinned, climbing in beside Barlow.   
  
( Chapters already written, just going over them for proof reading - hey if you've gotten this far, what do you think?) 


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